iii;.                   lljk  :'  .'M  ^ 

il!  !;'  : 

■  ;■ 

)V' 


Cibrarjp  of  tiie  trheolojicd  ^emmarjp 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 


PRESENTED  BY 


BX  6333  .A25055 
Aked,  Charles  F.  1864-1926 
Old  events  and  modern 
meani  ngs 


OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN 
MEANINGS 


By  Charles  F.Aked,D.D. 

Old  Events  and 
Modern  Meanings 

A  Volume  of  Sermons.  12mo,cloth, 
net,  ^1.25. 

The  first  volume  of  Dr.  Aked's  American 
Addresses.  As  the  New  York  Mail 
said:  "His  sermons  prove  that  a  really 
big  man  has  come  to  town.  They  are 
singularly  well  adapted  to  the  needs  of 
the  present  day.  They  are  short,  practi- 
cal, abounding  in  humor." 

The  Courage  of 
the  Coward 

2d  Editio7i.  12mo,  cloth,  gilt  top, 
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diction  is  fine,  his  thoughts  flow  easily,  a 
bit  of  humor  bubbles  over  now  and  then, 
but  through  all  there  runs  the  seriousness 
of  a  man  in  earnest,  with  a  message  to 
deliver.  It  will  do  anyone  good  to  read 
this.  It  is  the  manly  out-thinking  of  a 
real  man." — The  Examifier. 

Realities 

A  series  of  booklets.  Each,  paper, 
net,  15c.  Boards,  net,  25c.  A  Min- 
istry of  Reconciliation.  New  Every 
Mornins:.  Christocentric. 


w 


OLD   EVENTS   AND 
MODERN  MEANINGS 

AND    OTHER    SERMONS 


/ 
CHARLES  F.  AKED,  D.D. 

Minister  of  the  Fifth  Avenue  Baptist  Church, 
New  York  City 


Old  events  have  modern  meanings  ;  only  that  survives 
Of  past  history  which  finds  kindred  in  all  hearts  and  lives. 

—James  Russell  Lowell 


New  Yoek      Chicago      Toronto 

Fleming  H.  ReveU  Company 

London"   and    Edinburgh 


Copyright,  1908,  by 
FLEMING  H.  REVELL  COMPANY 


New  York  :  1 58  Fifth  Avenue 
Chicago :  80  Wabash  Avenue 
Toronto  :  2=;  Richmond  St.,  W. 
London  :  21  Paternoster  Square 
Edinburgh :    100   Princes  Street 


To 
EDGAR  LEWIS  MARSTON, 

THE 

Columbus  of  my  America, 
This  Volume  is  Offered 

IN 

Faith,  Hope,  and  Love. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I.  Old  Events  and  Modern  Meanings  9 

II.  Lot's  Wife 27 

III.  A  Glimpse  of  Old-World  Chivalry  45 

IV.  The  Creed  of  a  Universalist         .  61 

V.  The  Gate  Called  Beautiful           .  83 

VI.  All  Saints 101 

VII.  Idols  of  the  Tribe          .         .         .  119 

VIII.  Idols  of  the  Cave            .          .          .  135 

IX.  Idols  of  the  Market-Place  .         .  151 

X.  Idols  of  the  Theatre    .          .          .  167 
XL       The  Day  of  Small  Things  .          .  181 

XII.  A  Patchwork  Character       .          .  197 

XIII.  Moral  Miracles,  from  St.  Augus- 

tine to  Samuel  Hadley     .         .217 

XIV.  The  First  and  the  Last         .         .  235 


I 

OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 


I 

OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

"  Faint,  yet  pursuing."— Judges  vni.  4. 

Those  of  you  who  attend  the  general  Convention 
of  your  denomination,  whatever  that  denomination 
may  be,  or  read  the  report  of  its  proceedings,  will 
hear  in  this  text  a  familiar  ring.  To  the  seasoned 
delegate  of  any  Church  it  is  a  dear  old  friend. 
It  is  the  sigh  of  a  discouraged  soul  who  admits 
failure,  but  will  not  confess  defeat.  When  con- 
gregations have  been  poor,  conversions  few, 
finances  depressed,  and  temper  execrable,  when 
minister  and  people  are  all  but  reduced  to  despair, 
trying  to  put  the  best  face  they  can  upon  their 
failure  without  undue  wear  and  tear  of  conscience, 
they  add  to  their  doleful  story,  in  the  spirit  of 
him  who  whistles  to  keep  his  courage  up,  the  in- 
formation that  they  are  faint,  yet  pursuing.  The 
facts  are  too  serious  for  laughter.  The  phrase 
is  too  comical  for  tears.  For  never,  surely,  was 
a  quotation  more  grotesquely  misused!  We  re- 
member that  Mrs.  Malaprop,  thinking  of  an  alli- 
gator, once  said  that  something  was  "  as  head- 
strong as  an  allegory  on  the  banks  of  the  Nile  " — 
and  this  allegory  has  taken  the  bit  between  its 
teeth  and  run  away  with  the  context. 

9 


10  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

Look  at  the  story  and  you  will  find  that  it 
is  no  confession  of  failure.  It  is  the  war-shout 
of  victorious  men.  It  is  not  the  sigh  of  valorous 
souls  well-nigh  defeated  in  the  battle  of  life,  yet 
rallying  their  despairing  energies  for  one  struggle 
more.  It  is  the  exultant  song  of  conquerors  seek- 
ing more  worlds  to  conquer.  These  men  were 
flushed  with  success.  They  were  weary ;  but  it  was 
through  piling  triumph  on  triumph.  They  had 
driven  their  enemies  before  them.  They  had  scat- 
tered them  as  the  dust  of  the  highway.  Yet  still 
they  pursued,  and,  determined  that  nothing  should 
block  their  onward  march,  pressed  forward  to 
greater  deeds.  They  were  faint,  it  is  true,  faint 
with  the  strenuous  effort  which  had  brought  vic- 
tory to  their  banners,  yet  pursuing  greater  glories 
than  the  glory  they  had  won. 

This  is  the  true  reading  of  the  text.  So  read 
it  is  prolific  in  suggestion.  It  stands  for  a  heroic 
ideal.  These  faint  yet  pursuing  warriors,  do  you 
not  know  them  well,  and  do  you  not  admire  them.'' 
The  poor  woman  who  had  lived  a  starved  and 
narrow  life,  when  for  the  first  time  she  saw  the 
sea,  thanked  God  that  at  last  she  had  seen  some- 
thing of  which  there  was  enough.  These  men  look 
upon  their  accomplishments  and  never  see  enough 
of  them.  Are  they  preachers  ?  They  never  see  the 
crowd  that  is  big  enough,  nor  conversions  that 
are  sufficiently  numerous  to  satisfy.  Are  they 
Church  workers?  Heaven  be  praised!  nothing  is 
good  enough  for  their  Church.  Theirs  is  the  divine 
discontent.     They  always  want  something  better. 


OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS     11 

Are  they  Christians  indeed?  They  have  not  so 
much  as  touched  the  fringes  of  His  garment. 
"  More  love,  O  Christ,  to  Thee ;  more  love  to  Thee ! " 
You  know  these  men  in  the  life  of  the  world,  in 
art,  literature,  science,  commerce,  in  the  world's 
work.  I  ask  again,  is  there  not  much  to  admire 
about  them.f*  Their  crown  is  not  possession. 
Their  joy  is  in  the  striving.  Their  glory  is  in 
going  on.    Achievement  to  them  is  immortality. 

But  you  know  very  well  that  success  has  its 
dangers ;  and  one  of  the  great  dangers  of  success 
is — success.  We  all  of  us  find  it  difficult  to  dupli- 
cate a  triumph ;  while  the  stories  of  men  and  women 
who  have  come  within  reach  of  greatness  in  any 
one  of  a  dozen  walks  of  life  and  have  by  a  hair's 
breadth  failed  to  gain  it  are  innumerable.  They 
have  just  come  within  sight  of  the  tremendous 
prize  and  lost  it.  Success  is  dangerous  to  success. 
There  is  danger  of  resting  on  our  oars.  There 
is  danger  of  that  sin  which  Browning  imputes 
to  each  frustrate  ghost :  "  the  unlit  lamp 
and  the  ungirt  loin."  There  is  always  danger 
of  this  slackening  off  in  effort.  The  strain  of 
necessity  eased,  the  spirit  begins  to  flag.  What 
lies  at  the  root  of  the  old  conception  about  the 
necessity  of  sacrificing  to  jealous  gods?  When  a 
man  was  prosperous  he  was  taught  to  throw  away 
something  that  he  valued  most,  lest  spiteful  and 
envious  deities  pounced  down  upon  him  and  robbed 
him  of  all.  Why  are  you  bidden  to  touch  wood 
when  you  boast  that  you  have  never  been  ill  for  a 
year?     On  the  platform  once  with  two  veteran 


12     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

workers  in  the  moral  movements  of  the  old  coun- 
try, one  said  to  the  other  and  to  me,  "  I  have 
been  speaking  now  for  forty  years  and  haven't 
missed  an  engagement."  I  congratulated  him. 
The  other  grizzled  warrior  said :  "  Don't  say  any- 
thing about  it;  you  may  miss  the  next."  I  was 
planned  to  speak  with  him  in  another  city  a 
fortnight  later,  and,  sure  enough,  the  man  was 
ill  and  could  not  come.  The  next  I  heard  of  him 
he  was  dead.  Nothing  in  the  world  but  a  coin- 
cidence; but  what  lies  at  the  root  of  the  common 
superstition  that  there  is  some  danger  in  a  boast 
of  this  kind.''  Without  a  doubt  it  rests  on  the 
solid  ground  of  experience.  That  is  to  say,  when 
life  has  been  flowing  in  such  peaceful  currents  we 
have  begun  to  take  things  easily;  we  have  grown 
careless ;  we  have  not  kept  our  eyes  open  to  pos- 
sible dangers ;  we  have  somehow  got  into  the  way 
of  supposing  that  we  are  invulnerable.  We  have 
not  known  it,  but  unconsciously  we  have  glided 
into  an  easy,  unregardful,  non-strenuous  way  of 
thinking  and  acting  and  living.  And  so  our  very 
recklessness  has  laid  us  open  to  attack,  and  the 
breakdown  comes.  Life  is  not  a  matter  of  course, 
and  life  must  not  be  regarded  as  a  matter  of 
course.  There  can  be  no  discharge  from  the  war- 
fare in  which  we  are  engaged.  We,  at  least,  do 
not  live  in  a  world  where  it  is  always  afternoon. 

And  this  is  not  all.  There  is  the  constant  diffi- 
culty of  competing  with  oneself.  You  may  find  it 
trying  enough  at  times  to  compete  with  your 
rivals;  but  the  really  successful  man  is  his  own 


OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS     13 

liveliest  competitor.  He  has  always  to  break  his 
own  record.  He  has  always  to  do  better  than  his 
best.  And  as  the  years  pass  on  and  the  dash  and 
versatility  and  inexhaustible  energy  of  other  days 
are  no  longer  his,  he  may  grow  morbid  in  the 
struggle  to  keep  up  with  himself.  Ibsen's  "  Mas- 
ter Builder  "  lived  in  terror  of  the  young  genera- 
tion that  would  come  knocking  at  his  doors,  and 
died  when,  under  the  goading  of  Hilda's  belief  in 
him,  he  climbed  to  heights  which  he  had  loved  to 
climb  in  days  gone  by.  My  strong  conviction 
is  that  amid  the  numerous  breakdowns  of  the  life 
that  we  are  living,  nervous  breakdowns  of  which 
I  seem  to  hear  in  the  proportion  of  twenty  to  one 
compared  with  the  slower  life  to  which  I  was 
accustomed,  the  struggle  to  out-pace  oneself  has 
proved  more  dangerous  than  the  effort  to  keep  up 
with  the  procession.  There  comes  a  time  when 
we  doubt  ourselves  and  when  we  fear;  when  we 
make  comparison  between  to-day  and  yesterday, 
and  dread  lest  other  eyes  than  ours  will  see  and 
make  it,  too. 

It  is  interesting  to  see  how  teachers  who  suppose 
themselves  to  be  so  modern,  and  whose  common- 
places are  in  some  mysterious  way  regarded  by 
unthoughtful  souls  as  a  revelation,  accept  these 
world-old  truisms,  deck  them  out  in  the  pseudo- 
scientific  jargon  of  their  day  and  sect,  and  launch 
them  upon  a  bewildered  generation  as  oracles  of 
Deity.  They  lecture  learnedly  in  the  popular 
magazines  upon  what  they  call  auto-suggestion. 
It  may  be  Christianity  or  it  may  be  science,  or 


14  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

it  may  be  Christian  Science  or  scientific  Chris- 
tianity; I  do  not  know.  It  sounds  to  me  like  the 
A-B-C  of  common-sense  which  every  generation 
through  uncounted  ages  has  known,  and  known 
to  be  common-sense,  and  known  also  to  be  A-B-C. 
We  are  informed  with  much  show  of  wisdom  that 
when  I  am  ready  to  think,  "  Oh,  how  I  dread  this 
effort  which  is  required  of  me,"  all  I  have  to  do 
is  to  say  instead :  "  That  is  a  mistake.  I  do  not 
dread  it,  and,  though  I  do  not  know  it,  I  am  really 
looking  forward  to  it  with  pleasure."  I  am  told 
to  "  saturate  myself  with  that  thought ;  to  hold 
my  head  up  as  if  I  were  a  king ;  to  breathe  deeply ; 
to  go  ahead  with  confidence,  and  " — then  there 
comes  a  drop  in  the  phraseology  and  descent  into 
the  vernacular — I  am  assured  that  I  shall  "  win 
out."  All  very  wonderful;  but  so  our  grand- 
mothers knew,  and  we  never  taught  them  to 
suck  eggs !  Not  less  resolutely  did  the  Apos- 
tle Paul  brace  himself  to  heroic  endeavors  and 
achievements  by  crying  out  to  all  his  world,  "  I 
can  do  all  things  through  Christ  that  strength- 
eneth  me."  And  this  at  least  is  Christianity.  For 
though  we  grow  faint,  faint  with  effort,  with 
achievement,  with  victory,  we  may  keep  on  pursu- 
ing greater  victories  still.  We  need  not  fear  to 
compete  with  ourselves.  We  ought  not  to  cringe 
in  terror  lest  the  good  red  blood  should  flow  less 
richly  in  our  veins  and  leave  us  weaker,  slower 
souls.  Why  should  we  not,  on  the  contrary,  expect 
to  grow  stronger.?  Yes;  I  mean  that.  The  un- 
known author  of  the  eighty-fourth  Psalm  declared 


OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS     15 

of  certain  elect  spirits  that  they  should  go  from 
strength  to  strength.  Our  fear  is  that  we  shall 
go  from  strength  to  weakness,  from  weakness  to 
infirmity,  from  infirmity  to  decrepitude,  disease, 
death,  and  the  darkness  beyond.  The  condition 
of  the  inspiring  progress  our  Psalmist  pictured  is, 
according  to  him,  that  we  should  have  God  in  the 
heart.  So  possessing,  why  should  we  not  move 
from  height  to  height  until  the  clouds  turn  to 
solid  rock  beneath  our  feet,  and  our  conquering 
spirits  storm  the  very  battlements  of  heaven? 
Though  the  outward  man  fail,  why  should  not  the 
inward  man  be  renewed  from  day  to  day?  Let  us 
boldly  look  for  ampler  powers  along  with  maturer 
judgment,  stronger  grasp  along  with  more  radiant 
vision,  and  here  and  now  strength  to  perfect  what 
we  have  only  dreamed  in  the  turbulent  years  that 
have  fled.  God  is  not  the  God  of  the  dead,  but 
of  the  living.  We  are  living! — living  to  abide  in 
His  gracious  promises ;  living  to  claim  the  heritage 
of  men  and  women  who  are  born  of  His  breath. 
"  It  is  never,"  said  Goethe,  "  any  man's  business 
to  despair  " ;  and  least  of  all  can  it  be  the  business 
of  that  man  who  has  accomplished  much  and  by 
the  grace  of  God  may  accomplish  more.  Where- 
fore, men  and  women  who  have  done  things  worth 
doing,  whose  names  are  not  written  in  water,  be- 
lieve that  these  are  merely  the  promise  of  the 
day  which  is  to  come.  Even  though  the  sands 
of  your  life  are  running  out  and  the  shadows 
lengthening  toward  night,  for  you  has  it  been 
written  in  the  smiling  heavens,  "  At  eventide  it 


16  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

shall  be  light " ;  and  the  sunset  hours  shall  out- 
shine the  golden  glory  of  the  dawn. 

Success  is  dangerous  to  success — in  the  religious 
life.  I  do  not  mean  that  material  success  is  dan- 
gerous to  spiritual  beliefs.  That  may  be  true ;  but 
it  is  just  as  often  true  that  failure  depresses,  misery 
enervates,  and  poverty  brutalises.  If  biography 
will  justify  the  line  of  Pope  that 

Satan  now  is  wiser  than  of  yore, 

And  tempts  by  making  rich,  not  making  poor ; 

just  as  certainly  will  observation  prove  the  truth 
of  Ibsen's  word  that  "  it  Is  stupidity,  ignorance, 
poverty,  that  do  the  devil's  work."  No;  I  mean 
that  just  as  material  success  Is,  for  the  reasons 
I  have  given,  dangerous  to  the  continuance  of  ma- 
terial success,  so  is  spiritual  achievement  danger- 
ous to  the  continuance  and  progress  of  the  spirit- 
ual life.  After  great  emotional  effort  there  comes 
rebound,  reaction.  We  canot  always  be  singing 
hymns  and  shouting  "hallelujah!"  We  cannot 
remain  indefinitely  on  the  Mount  of  Transfigura- 
tion, though  the  Rock-Apostle  himself  should  offer 
to  build  tabernacles  for  our  comfort.  We  have 
to  descend  to  the  plain,  where  the  gaping  crowds 
and  the  mocking  critics  and  even  the  turbulent 
devils  are.  And  the  raptures  have  not  only  ex- 
hausted themselves ;  they  have  exhausted  us.  We 
are  not  quite  the  same  men  and  women — at  least, 
we  are  the  same,  but  with  the  fires  gone  out.  Then 
temptation  finds  us  an  easier  prey,  easier — 
startling  and  sad  paradox  of  religious  experience 


OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS     17 

— than  if  we  had  never  carried  our  heads  so  near 
the  stars  of  God.  The  spiritual  part  of  us  has 
reigned  within  us,  subduing  the  physical  to  her 
glorified  will.  But  she  has  spent  herself  in  exulta- 
tions, rhapsodies,  conquests,  and  now  is  very- 
weary.  While  fatigue  is  on  the  spirit  so  that  she 
relaxes  watch  and  ward,  the  animal  part  of  us 
seeks  to  come  by  his  own  again.  We  fall — and 
great  is  the  fall  of  some.  These  are  the  sins  of 
saints,  may  be,  at  which  the  world  wonders.  Per- 
haps I  ought  not  to  probe  the  question  further. 
You  will  find  it  discussed  both  delicately  and 
forcibly  in  the  letters  of  Robertson  of  Brighton. 
But  if  you  know  your  own  nature,  you  know  that 
even  in  your  moods  of  highest  spiritual  vision 
and  in  your  hours  of  grandest  spiritual  attain- 
ment, you  must  not  rest  content.  The  price  of 
continuous  achievement  is  ceaseless  effort.  Faint 
you  are  permitted  to  be  by  reason  of  your  vic- 
tory. But  the  crown  is  to  him  who  is  ever  pursu- 
ing other  victories  still. 

This  is  not  the  only  reason.  One  seldom  sees  it 
discussed;  perhaps  we  do  not  like  to  admit  it 
to  ourselves,  and  so  seek  to  close  our  eyes  to  it ; 
but  it  is  none  the  less  a  fact  that  sometimes  the 
victory  we  have  won  fails  to  bring  the  satisfac- 
tion we  thought  we  had  a  right  to  expect.  We 
have  been  assailed,  let  us  say,  by  a  great  tempta- 
tion. We  have  faced  it,  fought  it,  flung  it  down, 
and  trampled  it  beneath  our  feet.  And,  mind  you, 
it  was  a  real  temptation.  It  was  no  repelling 
spectre,  hideous  and  mocking.     There  was  some- 


18  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

thing  we  really  wanted,  something  we  wanted  to 
do.  And  it  was  hard  to  go  without,  very  hard. 
It  was  hard  not  to  do  it.  Oh,  how  hard  it  is  to 
be  a  Christian !  But  we  watched  and  prayed. 
We  resisted  and  won.  Then  what.?  Exultation? 
Not  always.  Ineffable  peace?  Not  invariably. 
A  sound  of  something  singing  at  the  heart  and 
sense  of  reconciliation  made  with  God?  Some- 
times only.  And  sometimes  a  blank,  a  blank  dis- 
appointment, no  blaze  of  crimson  in  the  opening 
east — a  sober  gray  or  depressing  drab — and  al- 
most a  censure  of  ourselves  that  we  did  not  go 
with  the  lotus-eaters  when  they  called!  Did  you 
ever  hear  of  the  disappointed  saint  at  the  gates 
of  Paradise?  He  looked,  and  looked,  and  looked 
again,  then  sighed. 

No  train  of  angels  at  the  gate  ! 

No  glories  on  my  vision  fall ! 
No  blaze  of  pomp,  no  great  estate  ! 

And  is  this  Heaven  ?    And  is  this  all  ? 

We  have  felt  like  that.  We  have  escaped  so  as  by 
fire  from  temptations  that  have  looked  like  angels 
fair,  and  after  the  excitement,  the  thrill,  and 
the  victory,  our  mood  is  like  a  stagnant  back- 
wash from  a  mighty  rushing  stream.  We  have 
often  repented  the  sins  we  have  committed.  Some- 
times we  have  repented  that  we  did  not  commit 
them. 

I  know  what  some  of  you  are  thinking.  You 
are  thinking  that  this  is  dangerous  doctrine,  es- 
pecially dangerous  to  the  young  convert.     And  I 


OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS     19 

am  telling  you  that  the  really  dangerous  thing  is 
for  us  to  ignore  it.  Let  us  recognise  it  for  what 
it  is,  a  fresh  temptation  of  the  sin  which  doth  so 
easily  beset  us.  Let  us  teach  our  young  converts 
— let  us  first  learn  ourselves — that  the  devil  never 
dies ;  that  if  ever  he  was  chained  up  for  a  thou- 
sand years  it  has  not  been  in  our  time !  And  that 
there  is  no  circumstance  of  unselfishness,  of  zeal, 
of  victory  over  illicit  desires  and  forbidden  things, 
which  warrants  us  in  taking  our  armour  off,  in 
laying  aside  the  helmet  of  salvation,  unbuckling 
the  breastplate  of  righteousness,  or  sheathing  the 
sword  of  the  Spirit.  We  may  be  faint — faint  with 
conquest, — but  we  must  still  pursue. 

Now  here,  to  move  rapidly,  even  violently,  into 
broader  fields,  is  the  justification  of  aggressive 
Christian  effort,  and  of  the  attempt  to  build  Chris- 
tian ethics  into  the  fabric  of  organised  society. 
We  must  not  throw  away  the  fruits  of  victory. 
We  must  not  lose  for  posterity  the  ground  won 
by  us  or  by  those  who  have  gone  before  us.  By 
great  effort  we  stand  where  we  stand,  through  much 
toil  and  expenditure  of  treasure  and  of  blood. 
Let  us  tent  upon  the  field  wrested  from  the  flying 
foe,  and  see  to  it  that  where  the  vanguard  halts 
to-day  the  rear  shall  camp  to-morrow.  This  is 
the  real  purpose  of  restrictive  legislation  sneered 
at  as  "  sumptuary  "  or  "  paternal  "  or  "  grand- 
motherly "  or  something  of  that  kind ;  and, 
whether  its  advocates  have  made  it  clear  or  not, 
this  is  its  ethical  justification. 

Loose  thinking  is  the  bane  of  all  discussion  of 


20     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

these  subjects — loose  thinking,  slap-dash  writing, 
and  cheap  journalism.  Let  us  try  to  understand 
the  phrases  we  employ.  Afterward  we  may  see 
what  we  are  doing. 

We  are  told  that  we  cannot  legislate  people  into 
morality.  Then  let  us  see  to  it  that  we  do  not 
legislate  them  into  immorality.  If  we  cannot 
make  them  good  by  law,  let  us  by  law  remove 
facilities  for  making  them  bad.  If  it  be  true 
that  the  highest  kind  of  virtue  cannot  be  evoked 
by  law,  it  is  certain  that  by  legislation  we  can  limit 
the  activities  of  those  who  make  their  profit  out  of 
the  lowest  kinds  of  vice.  If  we  cannot  by  legis- 
lation never  so  cunningly  devised  wholly  prevent 
any  person  going  to  the  devil  when  he  is  deter- 
mined to  go,  we  can  make  it  a  very  risky  business 
for  the  man  who  is  helping  him  along.  Vice  is 
everywhere  to  be  met  by  Christian  effort;  crime 
everywhere  to  be  put  down  by  the  strong  hand  of 
the  law;  and  the  encouragement  of  vice  for  the 
sake  of  gain  is  the  blackest  crime  in  the  registry 
of  hell.  If  there  is  no  way  by  which  Albany  or 
Washington  or  the  sovereign  people  whom  these 
represent  can  secure  the  reign  of  the  saints,  there 
are  ways  for  preventing  the  rule  of  the  scoundrels. 
And  law  has  failed  of  its  purpose  when  it  has 
not  approximated  to  what  Gladstone  defined  as  the 
ultimate  object  of  all  law,  to  make  it  easy  for 
people  to  do  right  and  difficult  for  them  to  do 
wrong.  I  have  never  understood  the  temper  of 
the  Christian  man  who  prays  "  Lead  us  not  into 
temptation,"  yet  never  votes  and  never  works  to 


OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS     21 

take  temptation  out  of  the  way  of  his  boy  or 
girl  or  boys  and  girls  less  happily  placed  than  his. 
We  ought  not  to  insult  the  Deity  in  our  prayers. 

You  know  what  the  stock  answer  to  this  is: 
"  Morality  is  not  morality  when  it  has  been  safe- 
guarded from  temptation.  Untempted  virtue  is 
nothing  worth.  Character  gains  by  conflict." 
Therefore,  I  suppose,  let  every  theatre  tempt  with 
indecent  plays,  every  saloon  work  at  full  blast  day 
and  night,  seven  days  a  week,  and  every  race- 
track harbour  such  crowds  of  pestilent  thieves 
that  a  sight  of  them  would  make  you  think  that 
"  hell's  tatterdemalions  are  taking  holiday."  Oh, 
certainly!  The  fireman's  heroism  is  developed  by 
fighting  the  flames.  Let  us  set  New  York  ablaze 
and  canonise  the  firebugs !  The  physician's  vir- 
tues shine  resplendent  in  the  city  when  plague 
rages,  or  typhus  or  smallpox  is  epidemic.  Let  us 
petition  the  Health  Department  for  open  cess- 
pools and  untrapped  drains,  try  the  bacteriologist 
by  court-martial  for  the  murder  of  souls,  and  have 
him  shot  in  the  nearest  field !  And  the  legislator's 
honour — when  he  has  any — grows  brighter  when 
he  manfully  resists  every  corrupting  threat  or 
promise.  Therefore,  let  us  raise  statues  in  our 
public  places  to  the  bribers,  perjurers,  and  thieves 
who  have  made  American  municipal  politics  a  by- 
word amongst  the  nations!  Why  not.''  For,  you 
know,  temptation  is  such  a  desirable  thing  that 
it  is  wrong  to  attempt  to  remove  it  by  legislation, 
and  flat  blasphemy  to  vote  as  we  pray ! 
,    The  objection  to  restrictive  or  prohibitory  legis- 


22     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

lation  leaves  out  of  account  two  important  con- 
siderations. 

The  first  is  the  injury  which  the  wrong-doer 
inflicts  upon  those  who  do  not  share  his  wrong- 
doing. The  right  of  the  community  to  prevent  his 
wrong-doing  is  the  elementary  right  of  self- 
protection.  The  object  of  the  philanthropist  in  ap- 
pealing to  the  legislature  is  the  protection  of  those 
who  else  would  fall  victims,  innocent  partners 
along  with  the  sinner  in  the  penal  consequences 
of  his  sin.  Thus,  while  the  ground  of  total  ab- 
stinence from  intoxicating  liquors  is  found  in  the 
injury  which  those  liquors  do  to  the  people  who 
drink  them,  the  ground  of  prohibition  is  in  the 
injury  which  they  inflict  upon  the  people  who  do 
not.  If  it  can  be  shown  that  the  drink  traffic 
wastes  our  wealth,  cripples  our  trade,  and  sullies 
our  reputation ;  if  it  can  be  shown  that  the  saloon 
breeds  thieves  and  murderers,  corrupts  govern- 
ment, and  poisons  the  Hfe-blood  of  the  State; 
if  it  can  be  shown  that  the  race-track  is  what 
Benjamin  Disraeli  declared  it  to  be,  a  gigantic 
engine  of  national  demoralization — then  the 
ground  of  prohibition  is  laid  in  the  basal  con- 
ception of  government,  the  protection  of  property, 
liberty,  and  life. 

The  second  point  so  often  lost  sight  of  is  the 
educational  value  of  law.  Paul  said  that  the  Jew- 
ish ceremonial  law  was  a  schoolmaster  to  bring  the 
nation  to  Christ.  The  law  is  always  a  school- 
master— to  bring  us  to  Christ  or  elsewhere!  To 
legalise  vice  is  to  encourage  it.     To  penalise  vice 


OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS     23 

is  to  discourage  it.  To  license  the  sale  of  drink 
and  to  legalise  gambling  is  to  give  status,  pres- 
tige, leverage  to  these  evils.  To  place  them  under 
ban  and  proscription  and  to  outlaw  them  is  to 
reduce  their  influence  over  the  young  life  of  the 
community.  And  the  man  who  objects  to  such 
rational  and  beneficial  education  might  logically 
use  his  influence  to  close  every  kindergarten  and 
every  university  in  the  land.  But  the  wise  man 
will  be  only  too  thankful  when  law  becomes  dis- 
creetly and  beneficently  pedagogic. 

In  this  way,  then,  and  in  other  ways,  the  Chris- 
tian citizen  will  labour  to  conserve  victories  al- 
ready gained  over  the  anarchic  passions  of  greed, 
appetite,  and  hate.  He  knows  that  he  cannot 
legislate  beyond  public  sentiment.  He  knows  that 
legislation  which  does  not  commend  itself  to  the 
mind  and  conscience  of  the  people  for  whom  it  is 
designed  is  doomed.  But  he  knows,  what  his  op- 
ponents would  like  to  ignore,  that  legislation  which 
is  well  abreast  of  righteous  sentiment,  as  far  as 
it  has  up  to  the  moment  reached,  is  securing,  mak- 
ing fast  and  safe  the  moral  gains  of  past  strug- 
gle, and  educating  sentiment  for  further  victories 
in  the  days  to  come.  Moral  sentiment,  the  good 
sense,  good  feeling,  and  good  purpose  of  the  com- 
munity, must  not  grow  loose  and  flabby,  must  not 
relax  its  hold  on  good  attained.  Faint  with  eff^ort, 
it  must  yet  pursue  ideal  victories. 

For  the  last  few  years  of  my  life  In  England 
I  had  a  little  house  by  the  sea  a  few  miles  outside 
Liverpool,  situated  on  what  is  called  the  Wirral 


24     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

Peninsula,  a  tongue  of  land  between  the  estuary 
of  the  Mersey  and  the  river  Dee.  Much  of  those 
low-lying  meadows  had  been  reclaimed  from  the 
sea.  To  protect  them  from  the  re-encroaching, 
urgent  waves  of  the  Irish  Sea,  huge  sand  hills, 
like  the  dunes  of  Holland,  had  been  raised,  on 
which  we  cultivated  the  star-grass  to  bind  the 
sand  together  and  hold  it  down  when  Atlantic 
gales  were  blowing.  And  beyond  that  had  been 
built  a  gigantic  breakwater  of  granite.  So  we 
kept  the  land  we  had  won  from  the  ocean.  And 
these  things  are  a  parable  of  human  life.  For  as 
with  sweat  of  the  brow  and  toil  of  the  brain  and 
great  heart  agony  we  win  each  painful  inch  of 
goodness  from  the  sea  of  devouring  passions,  we 
must  build  our  philanthropy  into  the  massive  ma- 
sonry of  Christian  legislation,  and  hold  this  large 
estate  of  virtue  for  our  children's  children  and 
for  ages  yet  unborn.  From  the  vantage  ground 
which  we  bequeath  them  after-generations  shall 
reach  out  to  health  and  wealth  beyond  our  dreams. 
Our  children  shall  rise  up  to  call  us  blessed  because 
though  faint  we  were  still  pursuing,  and  in  our 
pursuit  wrested  from  the  enemy  of  souls  the  land 
on  which  a  redeemed  humanity  will  erect  its  new 
Acropolis,  on  its  pinnacle  the  sublime  image  of 
far-shining  and  wingless  Victory. 


II 

LOT'S  WIFE 


II 

LOT'S  WIFE 

"Remember  Lot's  wife." — Luke  xvn.  33. 

But  what  is  there  to  remember  about  her?  We 
know  the  story  well  enough.  It  is  told  in  the  nine- 
teenth chapter  of  Genesis.  There  it  is  related 
that  when  the  wickedness  of  the  Cities  of  the  Plain 
cried  to  heaven  for  judgment,  brimstone  and  fire 
fell  upon  them.  The  word  of  the  Lord  had  come 
to  Lot,  bidding  him  make  his  escape  while  he  could 
from  the  doomed  cities :  "  Arise,  take  thy  wife  and 
thy  two  daughters  that  are  here,  lest  thou  be 
consumed  in  the  iniquity  of  the  city."  And  the 
word  came  again :  "  Escape  for  thy  life ;  look 
not  behind  thee,  neither  stay  thou  in  all  the  Plain ; 
escape  to  the  mountain  lest  thou  be  consumed." 
So  the  favoured  of  Jehovah  fled;  but  as  they  fled 
and  the  avenging  horror  fell  from  the  skies,  it  is 
said  that  his  wife  looked  back  from  behind  him, 
and  she  became  a  pillar  of  salt. 

Told  in  this  way,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  what  it 
is  our  Lord  wishes  us  to  remember.  But  try  to 
read  the  story  with  some  little  sympathy.  There 
is  no  need  to  think  of  miracle  here.  When  the 
fiery  destruction  fell,  while  yet  the  first  elementary 
instincts    of    self-preservation    urged    unresting 

27 


28     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

haste,  she  hngered  by  the  way.  The  word  which 
is  translated  "  looked  back  "  involves  much  more 
than  a  mere  passing  glance.  Her  look  was 
"  charged  with  steadfast  regard  and  strong  de- 
sire." Her  heart  was  in  the  city  she  was  leaving. 
For  her  it  spelled  the  sacred  name  of  Home. 
Round  it  had  gathered  happy  memories  and  lovely 
hopes.  Her  own  safety  called  for  swift  escape. 
Delays  were  not  merely  dangerous ;  they  were 
fatal.  Yet  would  she  not  have  been  more  or  less 
than  human  had  her  woman's  heart  known  no 
regret,  and  no  fond,  pathetic  glances  delayed  her 
flight?  We  are  bound  to  read  the  story  with  this 
understanding.  She  hesitated,  delayed  her  de- 
parture, still  hoped  against  hope  that  she  need 
not  go ;  and  so  she  died  in  the  way,  as  Pliny  died 
in  the  destruction  of  Pompeii,  suffocated  in  the 
fiery  and  sulphurous  vapour  of  the  volcano  flames. 
The  body  of  the  dead  woman  remained,  and,  ac- 
cording to  the  legend,  became  encrusted  over  by 
the  saline  particles  with  which  the  air  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  Dead  Sea  is  charged ;  and  in  the 
vivid  words  of  the  Bible  narrative,  "  she  became 
a  pillar  of  salt." 

Lot's  wife  illustrates  the  perils  of  a  divided 
heart,  of  backward-looking  glances  charged  with 
passionate  if  secret  longings,  warring  against 
all  the  instincts  of  the  soul  that  bid  us  look  for- 
ward to  higher  levels  and  purer  air.  She  is  the 
eternal  prototype  of  every  one  of  us  cursed  by 
the  burden  of  a  granted  prayer. 

Not  less  picturesque,  and  not  less  calling  for 


LOT'S  WIFE  29 

rational  understanding,  are  our  Lord's  words  from 
which  my  text  is  quoted.  "  In  the  day,"  said  our 
Lord,  "  that  Lot  went  out  from  Sodom  it  rained 
fire  and  brimstone  from  heaven  and  destroyed  them 
alh  After  the  same  manner  shall  it  be  in  the  day 
that  the  Son  of  Man  is  revealed.  In  that  day  he 
that  shall  be  on  the  house-top  and  his  goods  in 
the  house,  let  him  not  go  down  to  take  them  away ; 
and  let  him  that  is  in  the  field  likewise  not  return 
back."  I  understand  this,  the  revelation  of  the 
Son  of  Man,  to  refer  to  the  moral  and  spiritual 
crises  in  which  divine  truth  is  made  manifest  to 
the  individual  soul.  Then  comes  the  need  of  swift 
decision  for  the  right  and  persistence  in  following 
it.  Then,  truly,  delays  are  dangerous.  Vacilla- 
tion is  failure,  futility,  ruin.  We  cannot  afford 
to  play  with  great  questions  of  human  destiny. 
In  those  moments  when  Christ  comes  to  us,  comes 
to  compel  our  choice,  the  divided  heart,  the  soul 
that  cannot  choose,  the  will  that  is  shaken  by 
antagonistic  desires,  the  mind  that  quivers  like 
an  aspen-leaf  in  every  breeze  of  hope  or  fear, 
presages  doom.  Heroic  choice  is  called  for.  The 
heroic  course  alone  is  the  safe  course.  "  Remem- 
ber Lot's  wife." 

Very  wonderful  are  the  stories  of  the  captains 
of  industry,  the  kings  of  commerce,  the  inventors, 
the  discoverers,  and  the  children  of  genius  who 
have  given  themselves  to  the  conquest  of  material 
things.  Imagination  has  not  been  denied  them. 
They  have  seen  in  the  distance  the  far-off,  im- 
possible thing,  and  they  have  changed  impossi- 


80  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

bility  into  reality.  But  the  transformation  was 
not  effected  while  they  slept,  nor  had  they  time 
to  tread  the  primrose  path  of  dalliance.  While 
still  following  the  great  idea  they  showed  a  power 
of  concentration  phenomenal  and  intense.  Ever 
before  them  shone  the  great  purpose,  and  to  the 
task  of  achieving  it  they  brought  every  faculty, 
every  ounce  of  energy  they  possessed,  all  the 
strength  of  brain  and  will  which  the  universe  itself 
seemed  to  be  pouring  into  their  own  rich  life. 
A  capacity  for  self-limitation  is  one  of  the  com- 
monplaces of  the  biographies  of  all  successful  men. 
It  is  necessary,  says  the  French  proverb,  to  know 
how  to  limit  oneself.  And  these  men  have  known 
how  to  eliminate  the  superfluous  from  human  life. 
Whatsoever  things  were  merely  ornamental,  what- 
soever things  were  merely  an  excrescence  they  had 
the  strength  to  fling  aside.  It  may  be  perfectly 
true  that  such  self-limitation  has  frequently 
brought  its  Nemesis — they  have  gained  what  they 
sought  and  paid  a  price  for  it  which  it  was  never 
worth, — but  these  considerations  are  not  to  the 
point:  something  they  sought,  something  they 
meant  to  have,  or  to  be,  or  to  do,  and  they  have 
that,  they  are  that,  they  have  done  that.  Verily, 
I  say  unto  you,  they  have  their  reward.  Con- 
trast it  with  one  who  merely  drifts,  who  lives 
from  hand  to  mouth  and  from  day  to  day; 
who  has  never  made  up  his  mind  what  he  wished 
to  be  or  to  accomplish  on  this  God's  earth.  You 
know  the  type  of  the  unsuccessful  man,  whose 
unsuccess  follows  upon  his  unthrift,  upon  his  in- 


LOT'S  WIFE  31 

decision,  upon  his  carelessness,  and  his  self-indul- 
gent habits.  I  do  not  speak,  of  course,  of  the 
victim  of  misfortune,  of  ill  health,  of  unavoidable 
loss,  of  the  man  who  has  struggled  manfully,  whose 
failure  derogates  not  one  whit  from  the  strength 
and  splendour  of  his  manhood.  That  is  not  the 
man  I  have  in  mind  at  all;  but  I  think  of  the 
feeble  creature  who  drifts  ''  as  idle  as  a  painted 
ship  upon  a  painted  ocean."  There  is  a  romance 
of  industry;  there  is  a  heroism  of  commerce,  even 
In  these  material  days ;  and  the  characteristic 
of  heroism  is  its  persistence. 

Now  you  know  very  well  also  that  this  Is  a 
condition  of  achievement  In  moral  things.  One 
Is  tempted,  when  one  finds  opinions  becoming 
flabby,  to  enter  a  plea  for  bigotry  and  fanaticism. 
Etymologically  it  might  have  justification;  his- 
torically it  certainly  would  have.  What  is  the 
word  "  bigot  ".?  It  Is  a  corruption  of  "  by  God," 
the  oath  of  determination.  What  is  the  word 
"fanatic".?  It  points  back  to  the  fane,  the 
temple ;  and  the  fanatic  was  one  who  was  possessed 
of  an  enthusiasm  for  the  temple  or  for  the  god 
whose  chosen  home  was  there.  And  these  men 
who  in  their  souls  have  sworn  the  oath  of  per- 
sistence, these  men  who  are  possessed  by  an  en- 
thusiasm for  a  sacred  cause,  are  the  men  who 
have  made  history  and  who  to-day  sit  on  thrones, 
promulgating  still  their  laws  to  an  obedient 
mankind. 

Have  you  sufficiently  considered  the  inner  and 
essential  meaning  of  the  phenomenon  of  Prohibi- 


32     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

tion  assuming  such  gigantic  proportions  in  our 
day?  The  dimensions  of  this  outstanding  fact 
are  colossal.  Thirty-six  millions  of  the  popula- 
tion of  this  country  in  this  very  hour  are  living 
under  prohibitory  laws.  In  two-thirds  of  all  the 
territory  of  the  United  States  the  saloon  has  been 
abolished.  I  do  not  discuss  the  perennial  ques- 
tion as  to  how  far  Prohibition  prohibits.  That 
is  another  story.  But  no  candid  and  thoughtful 
person  can  deny  that  immense  facts  and  forces, 
immense  developments  and  potentiahties,  are 
amongst  the  contents  of  this  great  popular  pur- 
pose, sweeping  like  a  prairie  fire  over  two-thirds 
of  our  country.  Think  what  this  tells  of  the 
pioneers  of  the  Prohibition  movement !  And 
broaden  out  your  view  to  the  pioneers  of  every 
heroic  moral  movement.  Think  how  the  word  that 
was  spoken  first  almost  with  bated  breath  and 
whispering  humbleness,  if  not  exactly  in  a  bond- 
man's key, — spoken  amid  ridicule,  contempt,  and 
open  hostihty, — has  shaken  the  purpose  of  a  noble 
people  and  moulded  a  mighty  State's  decrees !  Is 
it  not  true  that  it  is  the  bigot  and  the  fanatic — 
the  words  being  used  in  admiration  and  gratitude 
— the  bigot  and  the  fanatic  who  still  fling  fire  on 
the  earth?  Their  ways  may  be  a  little  rough  at 
times — the  world's  rough  work  calls  for  rugged 
workmen.  Their  manners  have  not  that  repose 
which  stamps  the  caste  of  Vere  de  Vere;  but  they 
are  the  men  who,  having  found  the  world  down- 
side up,  have  proceeded  to  turn  it  up-side-down — 
and  of  such  is  the  reign  of  the  saints. 


LOT'S  WIFE  33 

So  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  centuries  set 
the  same  seal  of  highest  spiritual  value  on  fidelity 
to  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  not  for  nothing  that  in  one 
of  the  stateliest  of  liturgies  Christian  people  link 
themselves  on  in  devout  imagination  "  with  the 
goodly  fellowship  of  the  prophets,  the  glorious 
company  of  the  apostles,  and  the  noble  army  of 
martyrs."  We  are  one  with  them  if  our  purpose 
is  the  same  as  theirs  and  our  spirit  of  their  fine 
quality.  There  is  a  tremendous  passage  in  one 
of  Henry  Ward  Beecher's  sermons  which  possi- 
bly some  of  you  were  fortunate  enough  to  hear. 
I  feel  almost  as  though  I  would  give  years  of  my 
hfe  to  have  been  present.  It  has  been  described  by 
a  personal  friend  of  my  own,  a  friend  of  Beecher. 
He  says  that  "  the  very  walls  seemed  to  quiver 
under  the  impact  of  the  man's  divine  passion." 
He  says  that  in  the  crowded  church  "  men's  eyes 
were  blazing  and  their  chests  were  heaving,  and 
tears  were  falling  on  the  pale  cheeks  of  women. 
It  was  one  of  those  exalted  moments  that  do  not 
often  visit  us  on  the  face  of  this  earth."  It  was 
in  the  heroic  days  of  this  country's  history. 
Beecher  was  speaking  of  the  re-capture  of  escaped 
slaves.  As  you  know,  he  had  himself  hidden  slaves 
on  the  premises  of  Plymouth  Church;  and  in  this 
inspired  hour  he  flashed  out : 

"  I  would  die  mj'^self ,  cheerfully  and  easily,  be- 
fore a  man  should  be  taken  out  of  my  hands 
when  I  had  the  power  to  give  him  liberty  and  the 
hound  was  after  him  for  his  blood.  I  would  stand 
as   an   altar   of   expiation   between   slavery   and 


34     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

liberty,  knowing  that  through  my  death  a  milHon 
men  would  live.  A  heroic  deed  in  which  one  yields 
up  his  life  for  others  is  his  Calvary.  It  was  the 
hanging  of  Christ  on  that  hill-top  that  made  it 
the  highest  mountain  on  the  globe.  Let  a  man 
do  a  right  thing  with  such  earnestness  that  he 
counts  his  life  of  little  value,  and  his  example  be- 
comes omnipotent.  Therefore  it  is  said  that  the 
blood  of  the  martyr  is  the  seed  of  the  Church. 
There  is  no  such  seed  planted  in  this  world  as 
good  blood ! " 

I  will  not  add  one  syllable  of  my  own  to  that 
lest  I  spoil  it.  I  will  only  remind  you,  in  Bible 
language,  of  the  race  of  hero-spirits  who  through 
faith  subdued  kingdoms,  wrought  righteousness, 
obtained  promises,  stopped  the  mouths  of  lions, 
quenched  the  power  of  fire,  escaped  the  edge  of 
the  sword,  from  weakness  were  made  strong,  waxed 
mighty  in  war,  turned  to  flight  armies  of  aliens; 
of  whom  the  world  was  not  worthy,  but  who  made 
the  world  worthier  through  their  living  faith. 

These  things  lie  on  the  surface.  Let  us  go 
Into  the  matter  a  little  more  deeply. 

The  underlying  fact — not  yet  stated  in  words, 
but  implicit  in  every  sentence  spoken  thus  far  in 
the  sermon — is  that  desire  is  destiny.  In  one  of 
the  criminal  courts  of  this  city  there  is  upon  the 
wall  a  painting  of  the  Fates,  strangely  out  of 
place  in  a  Christian  land,  out  of  place,  indeed, 
in  any  Court  of  Justice  in  the  world.  The  three 
weird  sisters  are  enthroned  above  the  earth,  arbi- 
trarily controlling  the  birth,  life,  and  death  of 


LOT'S  WIFE  35 

every  human  being.  Clotho  holds  the  distaff, 
Lachesis  spins  the  thread  of  Hfe,  and  Atropos,  with 
what  Milton  calls  her  "  abhorred  shears,"  sits  ready 
to  cut  the  thread  when  life  is  ended.  The  Greek 
representation  errs  as  every  such  must  forever  err 
by  representing  our  Fates  as  outside  us. 

Man  is  his  own  star,  and  the  soul  that  can 
Render  an  honest  and  a  perfect  man, 
Commands  all  light,  all  influence,  all  fate. 
Nothing  to  him  falls  early  or  too  late. 
Our  acts  our  angels  are,  or  good  or  ill, 
Our  fatal  shadows  that  walk  by  us  still. 

"  Desire  breeds  action ;  action  breeds  habit ;  and 
habit  is  destiny."  This  is  the  real  Clotho,  or 
Lachesis,  or  Atropos  of  human  life.  As  a  man 
purposes  in  his  heart  so  is  he,  and  so  is  his  des- 
tiny. For  there  comes  a  time,  inevitably  it  comes, 
inevitably  it  must  come,  a  time  when  the  secret 
desire  reaches  out  and  grips  us  and  dominates  us 
and  coerces  us,  and  makes  us  what  all  the  time  we 
have  longed  to  be.  There  is  a  mistranslated  and 
misunderstood  passage  in  the  Cain  and  Abel  story 
full  of  old-world  imagery  and  of  new-world  mean- 
ing. It  is  when  Jehovah  is  speaking  to  the  man 
with  murder  in  his  heart,  and  He  asks :  "  Why  art 
thou  wroth  and  why  is  thy  countenance  fallen.?  If 
thou  doest  well  shall  it  not  be  lifted  up.''  And  if 
thou  doest  not  well,  behold,  sin  croucheth  at  the 
door  and  unto  thee  shall  be  its  desire!  But  thou 
shouldst  rule  over  it."  Sin,  beastlike,  pantherlike, 
crouches,  ready  to  make  its  spring.  Its  desire  is 
there ;    but    the    divine  Word    stands :    "  Thou 


86     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

shouldst  rule  over  it."  God  knows  that  sin  still 
crouches  at  the  door  of  the  human  heart,  ready 
to  spring!  Therefore,  let  a  man  be  very  careful 
what  secret  desire  finds  lodgment  in  his  soul,  for 
of  such  stuff  our  lives  are  made. 

We  know  how  physical  danger  tries  us  and  sifts 
us  out  and  shows  what  manner  of  persons  we  may 
be.  There  is  in  John  Ruskin  more  than  one  curi- 
ous survival  of  the  instinct  which  lies  behind  an 
ancient  method  of  ascertaining  guilt  or  innocence 
by  the  ordeal  of  battle.  You  will  find  it  working 
freely  in  the  chapter  on  "  War,"  in  "  The  Crown 
of  Wild  Olive,"  with  its  conclusion  that  "  quali- 
ties of  high  breeding,  self-denial,  fearlessness,  cool- 
ness of  nerve,  swiftness  of  eye  and  hand  are  su- 
premely tested  when  there  is  a  clear  possibility 
of  the  struggle's  ending  in  death,  and  that  there- 
fore whatever  is  rotten  and  evil  in  a  man  will 
weaken  his  hand  more  in  handHng  a  sword  hilt 
than  in  balancing,  say,  a  billiard  cue;  and  that 
on  the  whole  the  habit  of  living  light-hearted  in 
daily  presence  of  death  always  has  had  and  must 
have  power  both  in  the  making  and  testing  of 
honest  men."  And  every  wreck  at  sea,  every  rail- 
way disaster,  every  San  Francisco  earthquake  an^ 
fire,  every  one  of  the  appalling  calamities  of  all 
time,  affords  fresh  illustration  of  this  test  of  moral 
or  immoral  qualities  which  have  been  hidden  from 
every  human  eye.  The  coward  stands  revealed 
and  the  brave  man,  the  selfish  man  and  the  un- 
selfish, the  man  who  has  nerve  and  the  man  who 
has  merely  nerves,  the  man  who  is  no  man  at  all 


LOT'S  WIFE  87 

and  the  man  whose  moral  manhood  enshrines  divin- 
ity. These  are  the  testing  times  which  bring  secret 
things  to  hght. 

And  in  precisely  the  same  way  there  are  moral 
crises  which  call  these  dormant  heroisms  or  treach- 
eries or  vilenesses  into  activity  and  set  them  be- 
fore the  gaze  of  men.  In  the  Parliamentary  his- 
tory of  Great  Britain  are  two  stories  separated  by 
the  life  of  a  generation,  affecting  two  vastly  dif- 
ferent personalities,  together  preaching  a  tre- 
mendous lesson.  One  story  relates  to  the  leader 
of  a  political  party.  He  was  defending  himself  in 
the  House  of  Commons  against  charges  of  hav- 
ing used  language  calculated  to  incite  to  crime, 
or  rather,  he  was  attempting  to  extenuate  the 
admitted  fault.  He  pleaded  that  the  speech  in 
question  was  made  under  tremendous  and  tragic 
circumstances.  Those  circumstances  were  well 
known  to  the  House,  had  indeed  thrilled  the  heart 
of  Europe.  As  he  spoke,  his  defence  seemed  to 
be  winning  the  sympathy  even  of  his  opponents. 
One  of  his  followers  slipped  out  to  the  library, 
looked  up  the  Incriminating  speech  and  the  date 
of  the  events  which  were  said  to  have  occasioned  it 
and  to  excuse  it.  The  speech  had  been  made  long 
before  the  incident  occurred.  He  came  back  and 
glided  Into  the  speaker's  hand  a  bit  of  paper  with 
the  two  dates  written  on.  The  man  realised  what 
he  was  doing,  and  he  had  to  choose  in  that  mo- 
ment. He  might  attempt  to  gloss  over  the  matter ; 
he  might  frankly  apologise.  He  did  neither.  He 
took  chances  of  nobody  else  discovering  the  sig- 


38     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

nificance  of  those  dates.  He  chose  to  lie.  He 
lied  deliberately,  coldly,  firmly — and  he  failed. 
Other  men  found  that  the  speech  was  made  before 
the  alleged  provocation.  He  left  the  House  amid 
the  jeers  of  his  opponents  and  the  consternation 
of  his  followers.  The  story  was  remembered  long 
afterwards  when  the  man  died,  a  ruined  man,  died 
in  infamy. 

Now  contrast  that  with  the  story  of  John 
Stuart  Mill.  The  great  philosopher  was  a  candi- 
date for  Parliament  for  the  Borough  of  West- 
minster. In  the  process  of  questioning  a  candi- 
date known  in  England  as  heckling,  somebody 
asked  whether  Mr.  Mill  had  not  said  in  one  of 
his  books  that  the  workingmen  of  England  were 
mainly  liars.  I  need  scarcely  assure  you  that  Mill 
had  not  said  precisely  that  in  precisely  those 
words,  and  it  would  have  been  easy  enough  for 
him  to  use  phrases  and  escape  amid  a  cloud 
of  verbiage.  He  rose,  looked  his  interlocutor 
straight  in  the  face,  said  "  I  have,"  and  sat  down. 
The  audience  cheered  him  to  the  echo.  They  re- 
turned him  to  Parliament  by  a  big  majority. 
They  knew  that  here  at  least  was  a  man  who  would 
dare  to  tell  them  the  truth. 

Depend  upon  it,  men  and  women,  that  in  such 
a  busy  life  as  yours,  so  crowded  with  its  activi- 
ties of  pleasures  and  of  society,  of  competition,  of 
struggle,  of  attainment,  times  of  moral  crisis  must 
again  and  again  confront  you.  Then  you  will 
have  to  choose.  You  will  choose  on  the  spur  of 
the  moment.     You  will  not  have  time  to  consider 


LOT'S  WIFE  39 

all  the  implications  of  your  choice.  You  will  not 
choose  by  considerations  of  politic  prudence.  You 
will  not  have  time  to  refer  the  decision  to  some 
standard  of  morality  which  you  have  elaborated 
and  established.  You  will  choose  because  of  the 
sort  of  man  or  woman  you  are;  because  of  the 
life  you  have  lived ;  because  of  the  soul  you  have 
been  growing;  because  your  heart  and  the  desires 
of  your  heart  are  what  they  are;  and  because, 
while  men  and  women  are  men  and  women  and 
God  is  God,  just  so  long  will  it  be  true  that  out 
of  the  heart  are  the  issues  of  life  and  death.  So, 
then,  consider  once  more  the  perils  of  a  divided 
allegiance.     "  Remember  Lot's  wife !  " 

You  will  in  all  probability  have  admitted  the 
justice  of  all  that  I  have  said,  but  the  real  ques- 
tion is,  to  vary  a  phrase  of  the  vernacular,  What 
does  Religion  propose  to  do  about  it?  What  can 
Christianity  do?  If  it  offers  only  copy-book 
maxims  of  morality;  if  it  enjoins  wisdom  and  self- 
restraint  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  why,  then,  we  who 
claim  that  we  are  more  than  conquerors  through 
Him  that  loved  us  are  of  all  men  most  pitiable. 
The  Greek  philosophers  could  do  as  much  for  us. 
But  it  is  here  that  the  true  glory  of  Christianity 
is  revealed.  It  is  here  that  Christ's  method  and 
His  spirit  show  themselves  all  different  and  differ- 
ent altogether  from  the  method  and  spirit  of  any 
moral  teacher  the  world  has  ever  known.  It  can 
be  expressed  in  a  word.  Every  school  of  morals, 
every  school  of  philosophy  which  has  dealt  with 
morals,  would  place  the  control  of  the  passions 


40     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

under  the  dominion  of  Reason.  Jesus  Christ  would 
place  them  under  the  control  of  a  new  and  more 
powerful  passion,  an  enthusiastic  love  of  Himself. 
Mosaisra  may  deal  with  prohibitions.  Morality 
may  deal  with  prohibitions  and  with  prudences. 
Christ  breathes  a  new  spirit.  The  command  from 
Sinai  is,  "  Thou  shalt  not  do !  "  The  promise  from 
Olivet  is,  "  Thou  shalt  not  want  to  do  it."  This 
is  Christ's  method,  the  swamping  of  all  base  de- 
sires by  the  flowing  in  of  a  noble  one.  It  is  the 
fighting  of  fire  by  fire.  It  is  the  absorption  of 
all  lower  things  in  the  consuming  energy  of  love. 
And  this  is  why  we  are  very  sure  that  "  the  heart 
that  is  not  passionate  is  not  pure;  the  soul  that 
is  not  enthusiastic  is  not  safe." 

We  are  rejoicing  to-day  in  the  decision  of  so 
many  of  our  young  people  for  a  Christian  life. 
This  evening  youths  and  girls  from  the  Sunday 
School  and  from  the  families  of  our  own  congre- 
gation are  to  put  on  Christ  in  His  own  appointed 
way  by  baptism  into  His  death.  Many  of  them 
are  very  young.  It  is  the  experience  of  our 
churches  that  the  vast  majority  of  the  men  and 
women  who  glorify  God  in  a  Christian  life  and 
serve  His  world  through  the  medium  of  the  Baptist 
Church  have  taken  the  decisive  step  in  early  life. 
Nothing  could  be  better,  better  for  the  individual, 
better  for  the  Church,  better  for  the  world.  Would 
to  God  that  more  of  you  young  men  and  young 
women  could  reach  the  same  conclusion,  and  com- 
mit yourselves  in  the  same  public  way  to  the  side 
of  the  Redeemer ! 


LOT'S  WIFE  41 

Your  difficulty  too  often  is  that  you  wait  to  be 
Christians  before  you  call  yourself  by  Christ's 
name.  Then  you  will  wait  until  the  day  of  your 
death !  You  have  had  the  Ordinance  of  Baptism 
wrongly  interpreted  to  you  if  you  have  been 
taught  that  it  is  for  Christians  alone.  It  is  for 
those  who  are  trying  to  be  Christians.  It  is  for 
those  who  would  like  to  be  Christians.  The  es- 
sential question  is  not  whether  you  are,  here  and 
now,  in  every  thought  and  word  and  act  as  one 
of  the  saints  of  God.  The  question  is  whether 
in  your  heart  of  hearts  you  desire  to  make 
an  "  honest  try."  Christ  looks  not  to  the  ac- 
complishment but  to  the  purpose.  It  is  im- 
possible that  the  Church  should  ask  you  for  a 
nature  sweet  as  that  of  John  in  his  old  age,  or 
for  consecration  such  as  that  of  Paul  in  his  sub- 
limest  hours.  The  Church  asks  in  Christ's  name 
only  for  this  desire  after  goodness,  this  reach- 
ing out  toward  consecration,  this  aspiration  to 
a  dedicated  life.  In  one  word  Christ  asks.  Would 
you  like  to  be  on  My  side  if  you  could.''  And  will 
you  in  My  name  and  for  My  sake  try  to  take  My 
side  in  all  the  circumstances  and  the  chances  and 
the  crises  of  your  life? 

I  urge  upon  you  this  hour  of  decision.  I  see 
no  gain  in  delay.  I  see  no  reason  for  supposing 
that  the  moral  conflict  will  grow  easier.  I  can- 
not understand  why  choice  should  be  more  simple 
next  week  or  next  year  or  fifty  years  hence  than 
to-day.  I  cannot  learn  that  the  world's  work  has 
been  done,  or  the  world's  prizes  gained,  by  leav-' 


42     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

ing  until  to-morrow  the  moral  choice  which  should 
be  made  to-day. 

To-morrow,  and  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow, 
Creeps  in  this  petty  pace  from  day  to  day, 
To  tlie  last  syllable  of  recorded  time  ; 
And  all  our  yesterdays  have  lighted  fools 
The  way  to  dusty  death. 

Behold,  now  is  the  accepted  time,  the  glorious 
time,  the  heroic  time,  the  time  of  chivalry,  of  de- 
cision and  of  high  resolve!  Now  is  the  day  of 
salvation  from  doubt,  from  vacillation  and  drift- 
ing and  hesitation  and  fear.  Now  it  is  the  brave 
man  chooses  and  the  coward  stands  aside ;  that  the 
earnest  soul  lays  hold  on  God,  and  the  half-hearted 
drifts  rudderless  out  to  sea  on  a  stormy  night! 
"  Remember  Lot's  wife.'* 


ni 

A  GLIMPSE  OF  OLD-WORLD  CHIVALRY 


Ill 

A  GLIMPSE  OF  OLD-WORLD  CHIVALRY 

'*  And  David  longed  and  said,  Oh,  that  one  would  give  me 
water  to  drink  of  the  well  of  Bethlehem,  which  is  by  the  gate  ! 
And  the  three  mighty  men  brake  through  the  host  of  the 
Philistines,  and  drew  water  out  of  the  well  of  Bethlehem, 
which  was  by  the  gate,  and  took  it  and  brought  it  to  David  : 
but  he  would  not  drink  thereof  but  poured  it  out  unto  the 
Lord.  And  he  said,  Be  it  far  from  me,  O  Lord,  that  I  should 
do  this  :  shall  I  drink  the  blood  of  the  men  that  went  in  jeop- 
ardy of  their  lives  ?    Therefore  he  would  not  drink  it." 

— II.  Samuel  xxiii.  15-17. 

If  you  have  never  been  home-sick  you  cannot 
understand  this  story.  If  in  your  strong  man- 
hood you  have  not  felt  that  for  five  minutes  you 
would  like  to  be  a  child  again,  and  wander,  free 
from  manhood's  cares,  where  once  your  childish 
footsteps  strayed,  this  Hebrew  story  will  remain 
Hebrew  to  you.  It  has  been  my  happy  fortune  to 
look  upon  some  of  the  fairest  scenes  on  earth,  in 
the  Alps,  the  Pyrenees,  the  Alleghanies,  the 
Rockies,  by  Rhine,  Danube,  Meuse,  and  Mississ- 
ippi, in  the  great  Canons  of  Colorado,  and  on  the 
placid  lakes  which  sleep  eternally  beneath  the 
fathomless  blue  of  Italian  skies.  And  sometimes, 
amid  the  boundless  prodigality  of  Nature's  loveli- 
ness, I  have  found  myself  hungering  for  the  fields 

45 


46     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

and  lanes  of  childhood  and  the  days  of  long  ago. 
On  the  Gorner  Grat,  in  the  Cirque  de  Gavarnie, 
on  Lake  Como,  I  could  close  my  eyes  and  see  the 
castle  on  the  Rock  which  Lucy  Hutchinson  held  for 
Cromwell  against  Charles,  the  Forest  where  Robin 
Hood  and  Little  John  sported  with  Maid  Marian 
in  the  shade,  the  grove  and  churchyard  where 
Kirke  White  aspired  and  dreamed,  the  hills,  bleak 
and  barren,  where  Byron's  storm-tossed  youth  was 
passed — and  I  have  wanted  to  gather  crocuses 
again  by  the  banks  of  the  peaceful  Trent !  I  have 
little  doubt  that  if  I  went  I  should  find  the  Forest 
destitute  of  trees,  cut  up  into  neat  plots  described 
as  "  this  eligible  building  land,"  the  bleak  hills 
slightly  more  barren  because  dotted  with  coal-pits 
and  loaded  with  slag,  and  the  meadows  where  the 
crocus  grew  a  wilderness  of  bricks  and  mortar. 
There  is  no  well  of  water  beside  what  once  were 
the  gates  and  walls  of  my  native  town,  from  which 
I  long  to  drink.  The  farm-house  where  I  used  to 
buy — or  generally  beg — a  drink  of  milk,  is  now 
a  goods  station  or  a  railway  siding.  But  all  the 
same,  oh,  just  the  same!  I  know  exactly  how  David 
felt  when  he  longed  for  a  drink  of  water  from 
the  well  of  Bethlehem.  I  know — but  I  cannot  tell 
you.  And  if  I  could,  you  would  not  be  any  wiser, 
for  all  of  you  who  have  once  been  home-sick  know 
perfectly  already. 

These  men  were  bandits.  They  were  outside  the 
law.  The  rough  rule  of  David  was  over  them. 
Their  sword  was  their  strength.  Discontented  and 
broken  men,  men  in  debt  and  in  difficulty,  violent, 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  OLD-WORLD  CHIVALRY     47 

adventurous,  criminal,  had  rallied  at  David's  call. 
They  levied  blackmail  on  the  countryside.  They 
were  cattle-lifters,  bushrangers, — what  you  will. 
They  had  gone  back  to  Nature — they  had  not  far 
to  go.  They  lived  by  elemental  passions.  Some 
food;  more  drink;  a  little  sleep — spiced  by  fre- 
quent fightings  and  blood-lettings — were  their 
chief  concern.    They  sang  the  Song  of  the  Sword. 

When  David  spoke  the  longing  which  was  in 
his  heart,  three  of  these  brigands  understood  him. 
It  was  one  night,  when  they  lay  round  the  camp- 
fire,  and  each  man  saw  in  the  dancing  flames  de- 
serted, distant  home,  bent  old  father,  mother  thin 
and  grey,  and  children  with  eyes  like  theirs.  And 
David  said,  "  Oh,  that  one  would  give  me  water 
to  drink  of  the  well  which  is  by  the  gate  of  Beth- 
lehem." These  three  took  their  lives  in  their  hands, 
fought  their  way  through  the  enemy's  lines,  drew 
water  at  the  well,  and  returned  with  it  in  triumph 
to  their  chief. 

This  glimpse  of  old-world  chivalry,  hghting  up 
the  dark  and  blood-stained  ages  of  the  past,  is 
bright  with  human  interest.  There  was  a  touch 
of  poetry  in  these  rugged  natures.  These  men 
had  souls.  What  possible  difference  could  it  make 
to  David  whether  he  drank  water  from  the  well 
by  the  gate  of  Bethlehem  or  from  the  spring  by 
the  cave  where  he  lay  ?  Thirst  is  thirst,  and  water 
is  water.  If  you  drink  the  water  you  slake  your 
thirst — and  that  is  all  there  is  in  it.  What  differ- 
ence is  there?  None  whatever,  if  you  have  no  soul. 
What  are  places,  associations,  memories.'*     Noth- 


48  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

ing,  absolutely  nothing,  if  you  have  no  soul.  But 
the  spots  which  great  men  have  loved  are  haunted 
by  a  sacred  presence.  The  associations  of  home 
and  childhood  and  our  beloved  dead  are  holy. 
The  memories  of  the  sainted  past  are  at  times 
pleading,  gentle,  pathetic,  at  times  inspiring,  com- 
manding, strong — for  those  of  us  who  have  souls ! 
If  you  have  no  soul,  be  sorry  and  try  to  get  one. 
Do  not  boast  of  your  mediocrity  and  scoff  at  the 
infinite. 

It  is  well  with  us  when  we  can  perceive  chivalry, 
recognise  it  for  what  it  is,  and  value  it.  Happy 
is  the  man  or  woman  whose  untrained  faculties 
instinctively  pierce  to  the  heart  of  a  chivalrous 
deed  or  to  the  soul  of  a  chivalrous  life;  who  sees 
through  the  trappings  of  things,  tinsel  gilt  or 
hodden  grey,  to  reality!  But  if  this  prophetic 
gift  is  denied  us,  then  let  us  train  ourselves,  by 
honest  reading  and  sincere  thinking,  to  separate 
the  true  from  the  false,  the  pinchbeck  from  the 
gold,  and  to  appreciate  the  heroic  in  any  coarse 
disguise. 

But  our  reading,  as  Emerson  says,  is  mendicant 
and  sycophantic.  Our  imagination  plays  strange 
tricks  with  us.  We  were  brought  up  under  the 
spell  of  bad  poetry  and  false  romance.  And  the 
more  fatally  we  were  obsessed  by  the  circus- 
chivalry  of  knights  and  spears  and  tossing  plumes, 
the  less  clearly  did  we  perceive  the  human  chivalry 
of  every  age  and  condition,  the  prophet-hero  of 
Old  Testament  story  or  the  policeman-hero  of  our 
streets.      If   you   have   the  intellectual   sincerity 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  OLD-WORLD  CHIVALRY     49 

which  would  really  know  what  was  the  "  chivalry  " 
of  an  ancient  day  which  flung  glamour  over  our 
pseudo-historical  reading,  ponder  this  passage 
from  Mr.  Richard  Whiteing.  It  is  from  "  No.  5, 
John  Street."  He  has  wandered  down  White- 
chapel  and  chanced  to  see  a  slaughterman  from 
the  abattoir,  red  and  reeking  from  his  trade. 
And  he  says: 

"  I  was  haunted  with  the  idea  that  I  had  seen 
him  before.  But  where?  Why,  there,  of  course, 
in  the  Temple  Church,  lying  cross-legged  on  the 
pavement,  in  effigy,  or  wherever  else  brass  or  mar- 
ble preserves  a  memorial  of  the  warlike  dead.  His 
smock  had  the  exact  cut  of  a  coat  of  chain  mail. 
He  was  belted  like  a  knight,  for  the  carriage  of 
his  swinging  steel.  His  cap  was  but  the  old  fight- 
ing headpiece  in  a  softer  stuff.  His  sewer  boots 
were  a  trifle  heavy  for  the  stricken  field,  but  they 
were  justified  by  the  fact  that  he  had  no  resistance 
to  expect.  Exactly  so  must  the  smartest  founder 
of  a  line  have  looked  in  working  hours,  when  he 
toiled  in  the  press  at  Hastings,  and  before  he 
was  cleaned  up  for  history  by  his  serving  men — 
the  painters  and  the  poets.  .  .  .  War  is  this,  I 
felt;  and  this  is  war,  and  ever  shall  be,  in  spite 
of  the  serving  man  with  the  pen,  and  of  the  other 
lackey  with  the  brush !  " 

The  judgment  of  the  historian  Hallam  is  not 
essentially  diff'erent  from  that  of  Mr.  Whiteing, 
allowing  for  Hallam's  careful  and  precise  methods 
of  stating  the  judgment  at  which  he  has  arrived. 
He   shows    that    "  chivalry "   loved   fighting   for 


50  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

fighting's  sake,  was  unconcerned  with  the  Tight- 
ness or  wrongness  of  the  quarrel,  and  bred  turbu- 
lence for  no  reason  in  the  world  but  the  brutal 
love  of  war.  He  attributes  to  "  chivalry "  a 
widening  separation  of  class  from  class,  and  the 
degradation  of  the  great  mass  of  the  people  at 
the  hands  of  a  privileged  few.  And  he  has  to  show 
how,  in  the  songs  of  the  Troubadours,  "  the  viola- 
tion of  the  marriage  vow  was  the  incontestable 
privilege  of  the  brave  and  the  fair."  The  words 
of  John  Richard  Green,  as  you  would  expect,  are 
more  emphatic.  But  they  state  the  same  thing. 
He  speaks  of 

"  Chivalry,  with  its  picturesque  mimicry  of  high 
sentiment,  of  heroism,  love,  and  courtesy — a  mim- 
icry before  which  all  depth  and  reality  of  noble- 
ness disappeared  to  make  room  for  the  coarsest 
profligacy,  the  narrowest  caste-spirit,  and  a  brutal 
indifference  to  human  sufferings." 

And  yet  in  this  unchivalrous  age  of  chivalry  the 
grandeur  of  our  human  nature  would  assert  itself 
in  undying  splendour.  People  who,  as  I  have  said, 
delight  to  sun  themselves  in  the  glamour  of  bad 
poetry  and  false  romance,  have  held  up  their  hands 
in  pious  horror  at  mention  of  Mark  Twain's 
"  Yankee  at  the  Court  of  King  Arthur."  A  man 
once  told  me,  a  good,  sweet-natured  man,  that  the 
book  ought  to  be  burnt  by  the  common  hangman. 
And  others  are  ready  to  add  "  and  the  author  put 
in  the  pillory."  It  is  "  shocking."  It  is  "  out- 
rageous." It  is  worse  than  wicked ;  it  is  vulgar ! 
And  yet  I  tell  you  that  it  is  a  great  book  and  a 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  OLD-WORLD  CHIVALRY     51 

true  book,  a  beautiful  book,  with  pity  and  tears 
and  human  love  and  the  passion  of  liberty  and 
honest  mirth — and  reverence  for  everything  which 
is  worthy  of  reverence,  and  contempt  only  for  un- 
realities, shoddy,  and  sin.  There  is  one  wonderful 
scene  where  the  Yankee  is  represented  as  stopping 
the  torture  of  a  poor  man  accused  of  killing  a 
deer.  He  has  suffered  terribly  on  the  rack.  His 
wife  is  by  his  side,  tortured  herself  by  the  agony 
which  is  tearing  him  asunder,  praying  him  to  con- 
fess, and,  confessing,  receive  sentence  of  death. 
The  stranger  puts  an  end  to  these  devilries,  and 
tells  them  both  that  they  may  speak  freely  for 
the  man's  life  is  safe.  The  woman  admits  that 
she  wanted  him  to  confess  so  that  he  might  be 
spared  further  torture  and  find  a  merciful,  swift 
death.  The  man  admits  that  he  would  have  loved 
the  sweet  release  from  pain  which  death  would 
bring,  but  demands,  "  Would  I  rob  my  wife  and 
chick  to  save  myself  a  little  pain  ?  "  And  then 
the  Yankee  says,  or  Mark  Twain  for  him : 

"  Oh,  heart  of  gold,  now  I  see  it !  The  bitter 
law  takes  the  convicted  man's  estate  and  beggars 
his  widow  and  his  orphans.  They  could  torture 
you  to  death,  but  without  conviction  or  confession 
they  could  not  rob  your  wife  and  baby.  You  stood 
by  them  like  a  man ;  and  you — true  wife  and 
woman  that  you  are — you  would  have  bought  him 
release  from  torture  at  cost  to  yourself  of  slow 
starvation  and  death !  " 

Oh,  heart  of  gold!  How  true  that  sentence 
rings !    We  know  these  hearts  of  gold.     We  know 


52  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

the  men  and  women  of  the  chivalrous  soul.  We 
pass  them  in  the  street  every  day,  we  sit  next 
them  in  the  cars.  And  these  men  whom  we  dis- 
dain as  loafers  and  "  common "  men,  while  we 
fawn  upon  those  whom  Mr.  Whiteing  would  call 
the  cleaned-up  killers  of  their  fellows,  roystering 
generals  and  prancing  pro-consuls,  these  on  whom 
we  look  down  are  the  men  who  man  life-boats,  fling 
themselves  into  the  fast-flowing  tide,  leap  into  a 
raging  hell  of  flame,  stand  the  foot-plate  of  their 
engine  and  rush  to  mutilation  and  death,  or  assert 
without  a  word  and  yet  in  a  thousand  voices  the 
divinity  of  human  nature  and  the  immortality  of 
love.  God  help  us — it  is  a  fervent  prayer — ^to 
perceive  chivalry  wherever  it  may  be  found ! 

We  are  all  familiar  with  the  glittering  falsity 
of  Burke :  "  The  age  of  chivalry  is  past."  The 
age  of  chivalry  is  the  hour  which  now  is.  The 
place  of  chivalry  is  the  place  where  you  live  and 
work.  The  occasion  of  chivalry  is  injustice  and 
need.  And  the  true  chivalry  of  the  true  hero  will 
endure  as  long  as  there  is  weakness  to  be  pro- 
tested, wrong  to  be  set  right,  and  fallen  hu- 
manity to  be  restored  to  the  image  of  God. 

There  is  another  prayer  which  we  may  off^er. 
"  God  help  us  to  perceive  chivalry  wherever  it  may 
be  found !  "  That  is  good.  But  not  less  fervent, 
not  less  good,  is  this  also :  "  God  help  us  to  pre- 
serve whatever  touch  of  chivalry  has  been  granted 
to  us ! " 

The  experiences  of  life  tend  to  make  all  of  us 
hard  and  some  of  us  bitter.    Disillusionment  comes 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  OLD-WORLD  CHIVALRY     53 

to  us,  and  unless  we  watch  and  pray  it  will  be  fatal 
to  us.  Advancing  years  bring  their  dangers.  We 
have  been  disappointed.  We  have  seen  failures. 
We  thought  that  if  we  went  through  life  trusting, 
hoping,  believing,  giving,  we  should  be  met  in  the 
same  spirit.  It  seemed  to  us  that  this  was 
what  Jesus  taught.  We  thought  that  we  ought 
to  be  ready  to  go  out  as  sheep  amongst  wolves, 
and  we  understood  that  in  time  the  wolves  would 
cease  to  be  wolfish.  And  so  we  went  with  open 
hand  and  open  heart,  hoping  all  things,  bearing 
all  things,  believing  all  things.  And  then  experi- 
ences come  to  us  which  tempt  us  to  say :  "  I  should 
have  been  wiser  to  be — ^wiser !  It  would  have  been 
more  prudent  to  be  more  prudent !  I  believed  in 
God  and  men,  but  I  should  have  done  better  to 
look  after  myself.  I  ought  to  have  taken  a  dis- 
count off  all  these  heroic,  ideal  notions  by  which 
I  tried  to  live ! "  God  help  you,  my  brother,  if 
that  is  your  mood.  Fight  it,  for  the  love  of  God. 
Fight  it,  for  your  own  soul's  sake.  Fight  it,  for 
madness  and  death  are  less  evils  than  this.  Better 
go  through  life  a  thousand  times  deceived,  a  thou- 
sand times  betrayed,  a  thousand  times  disappointed 
and  flung  back  upon  your  own  heart,  still  craving 
for  life  and  love,  than  darken  the  light  which  is 
within  you  and  plunge  into  the  perdition  of  the 
man  who  keeps  himself  safe.  He  is  the  hero  who 
comes  through  life,  looking  upon  its  disappoint- 
ments, its  failures,  its  mortifications,  and  preserves 
the  splendour  of  his  faith  in  God.  Believe  in  hu- 
man nature,  spite  of  all  its  aberrations  and  its 


54     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

degradation.  Believe  in  your  brother-men.  Be- 
lieve in  God.  Believe  in  the  Christ  who  slumbers 
in  the  soul  of  every  human  being  and  is  ready 
to  wake  at  the  sound  of  the  right  word  and  the 
touch  of  the  right  spirit.  Still  pour  out  your 
life  in  service  and  in  sacrifice.  For  the  joy  that 
was  set  before  Him,  He  endured  the  Cross.  And 
the  joy  of  the  Lord  is  your  strength. 

David  refused  to  drink  the  water.  To  him 
it  was  a  sacred  thing.  He  could  not  drink  it. 
It  seemed  like  drinking  the  blood  of  the  men  who 
had  put  their  lives  to  the  touch  to  win  this  draught 
for  him.  He  poured  it  out  as  a  libation,  an  offer- 
ing to  God.  He  associated  the  brave  three  with 
him  in  the  act  of  adoration,  for  he  esteemed  it 
a  fit  offering  to  Jehovah.  There  was  an  answer- 
ing nobility  in  David's  heart,  when  the  nobility  of 
these  men  was  felt.  There  are  fashions  in  criti- 
cism, as  in  all  else;  and  fashion  of  late  years 
has  decreed  the  dethronement  of  many  ancient 
"  heroes,"  David  amongst  them.  The  best  we  are 
inclined  to  say  about  him  now  is  that  he  was  no 
better  than  he  should  be !  In  Sir  John  Robinson's 
memoirs,  lately  published,  there  is  a  curious  story 
of  Queen  Victoria.  One  of  the  ladies  attached  to 
her  court  was  maundering  about  the  joys  of 
heaven,  when  we  should  meet  Abraham  and  Isaac 
and  Jacob  and  David  and But  Victoria  in- 
terrupted her.  "  Not  David,"  she  asserted  vigor- 
ously ;  "  nothing  will  ever  induce  me  to  know 
David ! "  Poor  man,  at  times  he  was  hardly  re- 
spectable !    Yet  this  story  shows  him  at  his  noblest. 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  OLD-WORLD  CHIVALRY     55 

It  is  an  incident  which  brings  before  us  the  hand- 
some hero  of  whom  the  old  sober-sides  who  com- 
piled the  Book  of  Samuel  has  to  say  that  he  had 
"  beautiful  eyes,"  and  that  he  charmed  the  women 
and  captivated  the  men !  Chivalry  answered  back 
to  chivalry  between  the  brigands  and  their  chief. 

But  suppose  that  David  had  accepted  the  drink 
without  so  much  as  the  Hebrew  equivalent  of 
*'  Thank  you !  "  Suppose  that  he  had  accepted  it 
as  merely  his  right,  the  service  and  the  splendour 
nothing  but  that  which  he  was  entitled  to  expect ! 
Suppose  that  he  had  treated  it  as  a  matter  of 
course,  a  mere  nothing  at  all! 

That  is  our  life. 

There  are  men  who  expect  to  be  as  gods  in  the 
home.  The  most  comfortable  chair  in  the  house 
must  be  reserved  for  them,  and  all  the  machinery 
of  domestic  life  must  be  run  smoothly  for  their 
pleasure.  If  it  does,  they  do  not  dream  of  tossing 
a  word  of  comment,  gratitude,  or  praise.  But  if 
a  grain  of  sand  gets  in  it  and  they  feel  the  in- 
finitesimal friction — you  might  think  the  world  is 
coming  to  an  end.  And  there  are  women,  too, 
upon  whom  you  can  lavish  the  inexhaustible 
kindness  of  the  most  loving  heart  that  beats 
in  human  breast,  until  you  think  you  have 
met  in  the  flesh,  and  searched  into  what  serves 
for  soul,  the  vampire-woman  of  Burne-Jones' 
picture  and  Kipling's  terrible  verse.  Think  of 
the  love  which  is  poured  out  by  fathers  and 
mothers  upon  their  own — and  how  their  own  ac- 
cept and  repay  it !    Did  we  ourselves  need  the  cor- 


56  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

rection  of  suffering  before  we  could  understand 
and  realise  the  cruelty  of  unthinking  irresponsive- 
ness?  If  we  did,  God  forbid  that  we  should  ever 
again  rebel  against  suffering  which  has  made  and 
kept  our  hearts  tender!  I  do  not  speak  to  many 
boys  and  girls,  and  perhaps  I  cannot  speak  so  that 
they  could  understand  me.  But  if  I  could,  I  should 
want  to  say  to  them:  Go  home  to  the  love  which 
surrounds  you  and  keeps  you  and  watches  over 
you,  and  learn  to  repay  it.  Learn  to  repay  it  by 
learning  to  be  good  men  and  women.  Resist  temp- 
tation. Live  sweetly  and  bravely.  Come  back  to 
your  home  from  school  or  work  with  no  lie  in  your 
heart,  no  bad  thought  in  your  mind.  Let  there  be 
no  fear  for  you.  They  have  had  their  disappoint- 
ments, your  father  and  mother.  You  can  make  up 
to  them  for  these.  Bring  such  joy  and  pride  into 
their  lives,  as  they  see  you  grow  strong,  brave,  and 
honest,  that  their  last  days  shall  be  their  brightest 
days,  their  old  age  lovely  in  your  goodness  and 
your  love. 

This  is  our  life,  we  must  say  again,  in  its  un- 
thankfulness  to  God  and  to  His  Christ.  "  What 
evil  has  He  done?  "  was  the  question  of  puzzled 
Pilate  about  our  Lord.  Yes ;  ask  the  pale  Prisoner 
there:  What  hast  Thou  done,''  Deeds  of  love  and 
mercy  without  end.  He  has  fed  the  hungry  and 
healed  the  sick.  Eyes  was  He  to  the  blind  and  feet 
to  the  lame.  He  stayed  the  fires  of  fever  and  made 
the  leper  clean.  He  gave  for  alms  of  His  own 
heart's  blood.  When  Society  crushed  its  victim 
and  flung  him  under  the  feet  of  the  trampling 


A  GLIMPSE  OF  OLD-WORLD  CHIVALRY     57 

town,  He  held  out  a  hand  of  pity  to  set  him  on 
his  feet,  breathed  self-respect  into  the  shrinking 
spirit,  and  poured  His  conquering  life  into  de- 
feated souls.  Fain  would  He  have  gathered  the 
stricken  children  of  earth  as  a  hen  gathers  her 
brood  under  her  wings;  and  instead  He  gathered 
into  His  breast  the  spear-points  of  human  hate. 
What  hast  Thou  done?  He  sought  and  saved  the 
lost.  He  went  about  doing  good.  And  the  answer 
of  men's  grateful  hearts  is  the  scarlet  robe  and 
reed-sceptre  of  bitter  mockery,  the  perjured  wit- 
nesses, the  infamous  spitting,  the  blows,  the 
scourging,  the  crown  of  thorns,  the  agony,  and 
the  Cross! 

Will  you  not  make  another  answer.?  He,  if  He 
be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men  unto  Himself.  He 
can  draw  no  man  except  as  He  draws  you.  And 
as  He  draws  you,  so  through  you  He  will  draw 
others  to  His  side.  Yield  yourself  to  His  gracious 
influence.  He  will  save  you  from  your  worst  ene- 
mies, your  own  selfish  thoughts  and  the  evil  imag- 
inations of  your  heart.  Accept  Him  as  Master, 
Lord,  Redeemer.  His  spirit  shall  cooperate  with 
your  spirit.  You  shall  reinforce  and  glorify  the 
hosts  of  Christian  chivalry.  He  shall  baptise  you 
with  the  heroism  which  abides  for  ever  and  ever. 
Did  we  drink  of  the  well  of  Bethlehem  which  is 
by  the  gate,  we  should  thirst  again.  But  the  water 
which  He  gives  becomes  in  us  a  well  of  water 
springing  up  into  eternal  Hfe. 


IV 
THE  CREED  OF  A  UNIVERSALIST 


IV 
THE  CREED  OF  A  UNIVERSALIST 

"For  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  even  unto  the  going  down 
of  the  same  my  name  is  great  among  the  Gentiles  ;  and  in 
every  place  incense  is  offered  unto  my  name,  and  a  pure  offer- 
ing :  for  ray  name  is  great  among  the  Gentiles,  saith  the  Lord 
of  hosts." — Malachi  I.  11. 

The  date  of  this  great  utterance  is  important. 
Fortunately,  we  are  able  to  place  it  with  more 
than  ordinary  precision,  and  that  without  going 
far  outside  the  three  chapters  of  Malachi.  The 
scene  is  laid  in  Jerusalem.  The  people  of  Israel 
have  returned  from  the  land  of  exile.  The  Temple 
has  been  rebuilt  and  its  ritual  restored.  The 
social,  economic,  and  moral  condition  of  the  people 
is  in  every  respect  that  which  Ezra  first  and  Nehe- 
miah  afterward  set  themselves  to  correct.  Be- 
tween the  completion  of  the  Temple,  therefore, 
and  the  beginning  of  the  reforms  of  Ezra,  this 
prophecy  was  issued,  in  the  dark  days  immediately 
preceding  Ezra's  return,  which  took  place  in  the 
year  458 — let  us  say,  toward  the  middle  of  the 
fifth  century  B.C.,  or  more  specifically,  from  cer- 
tain indications,  the  year  464  B.C. 

Dark  years  they  were  indeed.    The  heaven  which 
lay  about  the  infancy  of  the  restoration  of  the 

61 


62  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

Jews  to  their  country  and  to  the  Holy  City  had 
faded  into  the  hght  of  a  very  common  day ;  had, 
indeed,  died  down  into  a  miserable  and  squalid 
prospect.  High  hopes  that  had  shone  like  stars 
through  all  the  night  of  exile,  and  cheered  the 
journey  of  the  pilgrims  homeward  with  a  soldier's 
song,  had  ended  in  disappointment  and  utter 
bathos.  The  picture  of  the  restoration  is  for  all 
the  world  like  that  of  a  tall  and  stately  sailing 
ship  of  the  old  time,  with  canvas  spread  to  favour- 
ing gales,  while  the  waves  of  summer  seas  bear 
her  on  and  out  with  murmur  and  song — and  then, 
that  self-same  bark,  with  bare  poles,  high  and  dry 
on  a  mud  bank,  under  grey  and  sullen  skies,  and 
only  not  a  wreck.  All  the  Old  Testament  accounts 
agree  in  depicting  the  sordid,  irreligious  life  into 
which  the  people  fell.  Times  of  disappointment, 
even  of  despair,  Israel  had  known  before.  But 
this  mood  is  different  and,  one  is  glad  to  know, 
solitary  in  their  history.  It  is  one  of  bitterness 
and  of  contempt  for  the  religion  of  their  fathers. 
The  holiness  and  the  love  of  God  were  alike  de- 
spised. With  open  and  cynical  effrontery  they 
kept  up  the  pretence  of  offerings  and  sacrifice; 
but  they  brought  to  the  altar  of  the  Living  God 
polluted  bread  and  blemished  beasts  which  they 
would  not  have  dared  to  offer  to  their  Persian 
governor.  Scepticism  for  the  first  time  in  the  life 
of  the  nation  was  common.  The  morals  of  the 
people  were  corrupted.  Vice,  extortion,  the  op- 
pression of  the  poor  were  widespread.  Especially 
does  our  prophet  take  up  his  indignant  testimony 


THE  CREED  OF  A  UNIVERSALIST     63 

against  a  new  form  of  wrong-doing,  marriage 
with  the  half-heathen  women  of  the  neighbouring 
tribes  for  the  sake  of  procuring  rich  and  pro- 
tecting alHances  and,  as  the  necessary  prehminary, 
compulsory  divorce,  inflicting  gross  cruelty  upon 
their  wives,  who  are  represented  as  covering  the 
altar  with  their  tears.  In  a  word,  this  wretched 
remnant  of  what  had  once  been  Israel  was  in 
danger  of  absorption  into  the  heathen  tribes  over 
whom  they  had  for  ages  exercised  lordship  and  to 
whose  low  level  they  had  sunk. 

Wonderful,  now,  is  the  contrast  which  our 
prophet  finds  between  this  demoralising,  disin- 
tegrating, hypocritical  lip-service  insultingly  of- 
fered to  the  Most  High,  and  the  pure,  acceptable 
worship  which  throughout  the  world,  in  every 
place,  from  all  lands,  from  amidst  every  nation, 
rose  to  the  saving  Lord  of  all.  Malachi's  percep- 
tion of  this  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  things 
in  the  religious  history  of  mankind.  The  phrases 
in  which  he  sets  it  forth  are  amongst  the  most 
notable  in  the  entire  record  of  revelation.  The 
words  of  my  text  stand  absolutely  unique  in  Old 
Testament  literature.  There  is  nothing  like  them. 
They  represent  the  high-water  mark  of  prophetic 
universalism.  There  has  been  that  which  might 
have  prepared  our  minds  for  something  approxi- 
mating to  them  in  the  way  of  an  ultimate  develop- 
ment. Yet  all  our  reading  of  the  best  in  Psalm 
and  Prophet  has  failed  to  lead  us  to  expect  this 
full-orbed  splendour  of  universalism,  any  more 
than  moon-beam  or  star-light  would  prophesy  the 


64     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

unimaginable  glory  of  mid-day  to  a  person  who 
had  never  seen  the  dawn.  What  are  the  words 
again  ?  "  For  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  even 
unto  the  going  down  of  the  same  my  name  is  great 
among  the  Gentiles ;  and  in  every  place  incense 
is  offered  unto  my  name,  and  a  pure  offering:  for 
my  name  is  great  among  the  Gentiles,  saith  the 
Lord  of  hosts." 

It  is  to  the  Revised  Version  that  we  are  indebted 
for  our  knowledge  of  this  amazing  text.  The 
translators  of  King  James'  time,  when  they  came 
to  these  words,  could  by  no  means  believe  the  evi- 
dence of  their  senses  nor  the  testimony  of  their 
combined  scholarship.  They  could  not  believe  that 
any  Hebrew  prophet  ever  ascribed  reality  to  what 
we  have  come  to  call  the  great  ethnic  faiths,  but 
which  they  would  regard  as  systems  of  idolatry 
forever  hateful  to  God.  What  then  were  they  to 
do  with  the  text?  Its  words  were  plain.  What 
could  they  mean?  The  translators  chose  to  in- 
terpret them  as  prophetic  futures,  and  for  "  is  " — 
"  my  name  is  great  " — they  substituted  *'  shall 
be,"  and  made  it  predictive,  "  my  name  shall  be 
great  amongst  the  nations,  incense  shall  be  offered 
unto  my  name,"  etc.,  though  it  should  be  added 
that  they  were  sufficiently  impressed  by  their  own 
temerity  in  doing  this  to  place  the  words  "  shall 
be  "  in  itahcs,  the  conventional  intimation  that  the 
words  were  not  in  the  original  text.  The  English 
Revised  Version  restores  the  meaning  of  the  words, 
and  without  italics,  though  the  margin  contains 
the  alternative  reading  "  shall  be."     One  is  sorry 


THE  CREED  OF  A  UNIVERSALIST     65 

to  find  that  the  American  Revised  Version,  in  so 
many  respects  superior  to  the  English,  boggles  at 
this  large  and  liberal  view.  The  breadth  of  the 
conception  is  too  much  for  American  scholarship ; 
the  version  of  King  James  is  brought  back,  and 
the  astounding  text  is  robbed  of  pith  and  point, 
left  a  commonplace  of  prediction,  without  rational 
connection  with  its  context  or  reason  for  its  ap- 
pearance at  all.  When  Paul  walked  through  the 
streets  of  Athens  and  beheld  the  objects  of  the 
people's  devotion,  his  heart  was  stirred  within  him, 
and  when  he  stood  before  the  committee  of  the 
Areopagus,  on  soil  the  most  sacred  and  sublime 
in  Europe,  he  told  of  the  altar  which  he  had  seen, 
bearing  this  inscription,  "  To  an  unknown  God." 
And  to  the  most  brilliant  company  that  could  be 
in  that  hour  assembled  on  the  face  of  the  earth 
he  said,  "  Him,  therefore,  whom  ye  worship, 
though  ye  know  it  not.  Him  declare  I  unto  you." 
But  five  hundred  years  before,  Malachi  had  said 
with  fascinating  boldness  the  same  thing,  and  said 
it  not  merely  of  judges,  poets,  philosophers,  and 
the  university  men  of  Athens,  but  of  all  races  of 
mankind  and  of  all  lands  beneath  the  sun.  Yet 
to  this  day  men  who  read  Hebrew  with  facility 
and  are  competent  to  write  commentaries  on  the 
text,  start  back  from  the  far-reaching  implica- 
tions contained  in  this  creed  of  an  old-world  uni- 
versalist  and  fit  a  narrower  meaning  to  the  words. 
But  it  is  no  use  having  a  Bible  and  re-writing  its 
greatest  passages  for  ourselves  when  they  are 
too  great  for  the  notions  of  our  day  and  sect, 


66     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

crude,  partial,  and  confined.  The  words  stand  for 
the  views  of  this  prophet,  whatever  weight  attaches 
to  them :  "  From  the  rising  of  the  sun  even  unto 
the  going  down  of  the  same  my  name  is  great 
among  the  Gentiles;  and  in  every  place  incense 
is  ofi^ered  unto  my  name,  and  a  pure  offering:  for 
my  name  is  great  among  the  Gentiles,  saith  the 
Lord  of  hosts." 

This  universalism  did  not  spring  full  grown 
from  the  heart  of  the  prophet  we  call  Malachi, 
as  did  Minerva  from  the  head  of  Jove.  Prophets 
known  and  unknown,  and  poets  with  their  death- 
less singing,  had  prepared  the  way  for  it.  There 
are  times,  as  we  read  the  earlier  records  of  Hebrew 
history,  when  we  are  impressed  by  the  narrowness, 
the  intolerance,  the  exclusiveness,  the  racial  hate 
which  found  shelter  within  the  Jewish  faith.  But 
against  this  spirit  a  new  and  nobler  one  is  found 
contending.  In  one  of  the  grandest  passages  in 
the  Bible,  whose  sublime  thought  is  wedded  to  per- 
fect diction,  like  lofty  poetry  to  immortal  music, 
Isaiah  of  Babylon  declares  on  the  part  of  Jehovah : 
*'  Behold  my  servant,  whom  I  uphold.  He  shall 
bring  forth  justice  to  the  nations.  A  bruised  reed 
he  shall  not  break,  and  the  dimly-burning  wick 
he  shall  not  quench:  he  shall  not  burn  dimly,  nor 
be  bruised  till  he  have  set  justice  in  the  earth; 
and  the  isles  shall  wait  for  his  law."  In  the  age 
of  Malachi,  perhaps  a  little  earlier,  perhaps  a 
little  later,  but  in  the  same  period  of  Hebrew  his- 
tory, the  author  of  the  sixty-fifth  Psalm  with 
clear   vision   pierces    the   darkness    of   his    time. 


THE  CREED  OF  A  UNIVERSALIST      67 

projects  himself  by  faith  into  a  larger  day,  and 
cries  to  God: 

O  Thou  that  hearest  prayer, 
Unto  Thee  shall  all  flesh  come  ! 

While  a  gifted  contemporary  of  like  faith  and 
spirit  cries: 

Let  the  peoples  praise  Thee,  O  God  ; 

Let  all  the  peoples  praise  Thee. 

O  let  the  nations  be  glad  and  sing  for  joy: 

For  Thou  shalt  judge  the  peoples  with  equity, 

And  govern  the  nations  upon  earth. 

Let  the  peoples  praise  Thee,  O  God  ; 

Let  all  the  peoples  praise  Thee. 

And  one  hundred  years  later  there  appeared  the 
superlatively  valuable  Book  of  Jonah,  one  of  the 
deepest,  truest,  most  inspired  and  inspiring  utter- 
ances of  the  Spirit  of  God  to  human  hearts.  Its 
unknown  author  is  another  Malachi,  but  of  imag- 
ination and  poetry  denied  to  him ;  a  child  of  genius, 
in  truth.  He  is  an  earlier  Paul — logic  on  fire — 
bravest  amongst  the  brave — iconoclast  of  tradi- 
tion, use,  and  wont — light-bringer  and  banner- 
bearer  of  the  soul's  liberty  and  the  love  of  God. 
He  stands  forth  an  incarnate  protest  against  the 
narrow  thoughts,  the  partial  views,  the  limited 
hopes  of  his  countrymen,  a  living  assertion  that 
the  love  of  God  is  broader  than  the  measure  of 
their  mind ;  a  breathing,  pulsating,  articulate 
pledge  of  the  grace  of  God,  reaching  out  beyond 
the  Jewish  pale,  freely  shed  abroad  upon  the  na- 
tions of  the  earth. 


68     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

These  mighty  hopes  wliich  were  blowing  wide 
more  than  two  thousand  years  ago  rebuke  the  lin- 
gering narrowness  of  our  day.  Repeatedly  we 
find  Christian  people  who  are  afraid  that  in  some 
mysterious  way  God  will  save  too  many  souls. 
Their  hearts  are  troubled  for  the  ark  of  God,  when 
there  is  no  trouble  near  about,  nor  in  the  air, 
nor  in  the  earth  beneath,  nor  in  the  waters  under 
the  earth,  but  only  in  their  own  unf aith  and  fear. 
They  are  morbidly  concerned  for  the  sover- 
eignty of  God,  for  the  integrity  of  the  Scriptures, 
for  the  constitution  of  the  Church,  or  for  some 
other  august  idea.  And,  though  they  know  it 
not,  and  do  not  mean  it,  the  effect  of  their  word 
and  work  is  to  defame  the  character  of  the  God 
they  worship,  to  set  mete  and  bound  to  His 
illimitable  love,  and  with  their  little  shibboleths 
bank  up  the  large  beneficence  which  flows  in  fer- 
tilising streams  from  the  All  Father's  heart.  They 
are  good  and  faithful  according  to  their  light; 
but  Faber  has  sung  truly: 

We  make  His  love  too  narrow, 

By  false  limits  of  our  own  ; 
And  we  magnify  His  strictness 

With  a  zeal  He  will  not  own. 

And  as  we  listen  to  them,  though  we  praise  them 
for  their  loyalty  to  what  they  conceive  to  be  the 
faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints,  we  understand 
the  hot  anger  that  burns  in  Charles  Wesley's 
protest : 

For  fear  of  robbing  Tiiee, 

They  rob  Thee  of  Thy  grace ; 


THE  CREED  OF  A  UNIVERSALIST     69 

And  0,  good  God  !  to  prove  it  free. 
Damn  almost  all  the  race. 

Oh,  men  and  women  of  this  Church  and  of  other 
Churches! — If  I  speak  to  one  who  has  ever  stood 
in  dread  of  the  broader  Gospel  of  our  day,  or  if 
my  voice  may  carry  to  those  upon  whose  soul 
fear  sits  by  night,  mine  is  to  you  a  daybreak  call, 
a  call  to  come  out  where  the  hving  breezes  blow, 
where  God  walks  with  favoured  spirits  on  the 
mountain  slopes  at  dawn,  where  He  proclaims  Him- 
self Israel's  God  and  ours,  speaks  to  us  as  a  man 
with  his  friend,  tells  us  as  once  He  told  the  Hebrew 
prophet,  "  All  souls  are  mine,"  and  bids  us  be- 
lieve that  from  the  rising  of  the  sun,  even  unto 
the  going  down  of  the  same.  His  name  is  great 
among  the  nations,  and  in  every  place  incense  and 
a  pure  offering  are  offered  unto  Him. 

But  this  is  moving  along  too  fast.  Let  us  go 
more  slowly  and  ask  what  possible  or  conceivable 
justification  the  prophet  called  Malachi  could  have 
for  his  universalistic  faith. 

He  lived  under  Persian  rule.  He  was  familiar 
with  Persian  life.  He  had  been  touched  by  the 
loftiness  of  the  Persian  spirit.  Amongst  that 
people  a  prophet  had  risen,  Zoroaster  by  name, 
who  had  conceived  of  two  powers  dividing  the 
visible  and  invisible  universe  between  them,  dis- 
puting with  each  other  every  corner  of  earth,  sea, 
and  sky,  every  thought  of  every  creature  born  of 
woman,  every  emotion,  every  impulse,  every  act. 
The  good  was  not  omnipotent;  the  evil  was  not 
omnipotent ;  and  the  evil  forever  fought  against 


70  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

the  good.  But  Zoroaster  called  upon  all  brave 
and  loyal  hearts,  all  souls  that  could  aspire  and 
dare,  to  follow  light  and  do  the  right,  to  raise 
the  banner  of  righteousness  over  every  life  and 
every  home,  and  give  battle  to  the  forces  of  dark- 
ness and  wrong.  It  was  an  animating  and  en- 
nobling call.  And  where  the  faith  of  Zoroaster 
was  truly  held  men's  lives  were  cleaner,  juster, 
stronger  for  his  words.  This  had  our  prophet 
seen,  seeing  with  other,  larger  eyes  than  his  coun- 
trymen possessed,  and  recognised  it  as  a  pure 
offering  to  the  name  of  God. 

Stranger  things  he  might  have  seen  had  travel 
not  been  denied  to  him  and  such  as  he.  They 
were  there  to  be  seen — in  India,  in  China,  and  in 
Greece. 

In  the  hour  when  Malachi  penned  these  enduring 
sentences  Siddhartha  Gautama,  a  prince  of  the 
shining  Indian  land,  had  gone  forth  from  the  city 
of  Benares  a  mendicant,  a  preacher,  a  protestant 
against  the  distressing  creeds  of  his  country  and 
his  day,  a  friend  of  the  friendless  and  help  of 
those  who  had  no  other,  a  gentle,  loving,  gracious 
soul,  a  prophet  of  pity  and  peace.  Some  hundreds 
of  millions  of  men  and  women  to-day  name  them- 
selves by  his  official  name,  "  Buddhists,"  followers 
of  the  "  Buddha."  The  pure  faith  he  taught  has 
been  corrupted.  Legend  has  done  its  work.  To 
separate  what  is  valuable  in  his  original  teach- 
ing, as  now  preserved,  from  the  mass  of  subsequent 
deposit  still  existing,  scholars  find  an  endless  task. 
And  the  Light  of  Asia  pales  his  ineffectual  fires 


THE  CREED  OF  A  UNIVERSALIST     71 

when  the  Light  of  the  World  casts  His  morning 
beams  abroad.  Yet  does  not  simple  justice  require 
us  to  believe  that  Malachi's  words  cover  Buddha's 
pious  meditations,  and  that  the  words  of  the 
Hebrew  prophet  stand  true  of  the  Indian  sage 
and  those  who  sincerely  learned  of  him,  "  From  the 
rising  of  the  sun,  even  unto  the  going  down  of  the 
same,  the  name  of  God  is  great  even  amongst 
the  nations." 

We  have  fixed  the  date  of  this  prophecy  ap- 
proximately in  the  year  464  B.C.  In  the  year  478, 
only  fourteen  years  earlier,  Confucius  died,  full 
of  years  and  honour,  having  stamped  upon  the 
life  of  his  nation  his  own  personality  with  such 
impressiveness  that  for  two  thousand  years  arid 
to  this  very  day  he  has  reigned  the  supreme  and 
undisputed  teacher  of  China.  In  manners,  dress, 
and  customs  the  China  of  to-day  is  moulded  by 
Confucius.  All  that  modern  research  brings  to 
our  knowledge  concerning  him  proclaims  him 
entitled  to  place  amongst  the  greatest  teachers 
of  mankind.  Once,  perhaps,  and  only  once,  and 
even  then  obscurely,  does  the  existence  of  the 
Chinese  nation  rise  upon  the  Jewish  horizon.  The 
Old  Testament  reference  is  doubtful,  and  I  do 
not  quote  it.  But  I  for  one  cannot  doubt  that 
whatever  is  good  and  true  in  the  moral  maxims  of 
Confucius  is  embraced  by  our  prophet's  words, 
"  In  every  nation  a  pure  offering  is  offered  unto 
my  name." 

There  is  an  inspiring  poem  by  Arthur  Henry 
Clough,  which  you  must  have  heard  quoted  a  hun- 


72     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

dred  times.     I  give  myself  the  pleasure  of  repeat- 
ing it  for  the  sake  of  the  last  verse: 

Say  not,  "  The  struggle  naught  availeth ; 

The  labour  and  the  wounds  are  vain  ; 
The  enemy  faints  not  nor  faileth, 

And  as  things  have  been  they  remain." 

If  hopes  are  dupes,  fears  may  be  liars  : 
It  may  be,  by  yon  smoke  concealed, 

Your  comrades  chase  e'en  now  the  fliers, 
And  but  for  you  possess  the  field. 

For  while  the  tired  waves  vainly  breaking 

Seem  here  no  painful  inch  to  gain, 
Far  back,  through  creek  and  inlet  making, 

Comes  silent,  flooding  in,  the  main! 

And  not  through  eastern  windows  only 
When  daylight  comes,  comes  in  the  light ; 

In  front  the  sun  climbs  slow,  how  slowly  ! 
But  westward,  look  !  the  land  is  bright. 

We  have  seen  how  the  light  has  poured  in  from 
Eastern  windows — how  Malachi  has  recognised 
it,  when  it  has  streamed  in  upon  his  soul  from 
that  of  the  Persian  prophet,  as  part  of  the  true 
light  which  lighteth  the  nations  stumbling  on  their 
way,  and  taught  us,  if  we  had  not  learned  before, 
to  accord  it  the  same  welcome  and  the  same  rever- 
ence when  it  shines  upon  us  from  the  burning 
skies  of  India  and  from  the  mysterious  Chinese 
land.  "  But  westward  look,  the  land  is  bright !  " 
Turn  to  Greece.  Look  at  Athens.  Some  half- 
dozen  years  before  Malachi's  prophecy  was  given 
to  his  nation,   Socrates  was  born ;   and  contem- 


THE  CREED  OF  A  UNIVERSALIST     73 

porary  with  Malachi  and  Socrates  rose  upon  the 
world  such  a  galaxy  of  genius  as  has  never  together 
illumined  the  minds  of  men  upon  this  earth  before 
or  since.  The  names  which  occur  to  us  are  those 
of  men  who  in  poetry,  history,  sculpture,  and 
architecture  sit  on  thrones  and  give  their  laws 
to  the  nations  yet.  ^schylus,  Sophocles,  Eu- 
ripides, gave  to  the  world  the  immortal  tragedies 
which  pierce  to  the  bone  and  marrow  of  our  deepest 
thinking  and  shake  us  like  a  tempest.  Pheidias,  su- 
preme in  sculpture ;  Pericles,  supreme  in  states- 
manship ;  Thucydides,  supreme  in  history,  did  the 
work  which  stands  to  us  to-day  as  the  embodiment 
of  human  glory.  And  the  greatest  name  of  all 
is  the  first  which  I  have  cited,  Socrates,  the  cross- 
examining  missionary,  the  preacher  of  truth,  the 
prophet  of  reality — Socrates,  with  his  belief  that 
man  only  lives  to  obey  the  commands  of  God; 
and  his  conviction,  strong  in  the  presence  of  death, 
that  no  greater  service  had  been  done  the  state 
than  by  his  loyalty  to  God.  What  new  worlds  are 
these  to  us !  And  how  our  hearts  burn  within  us 
when  we  turn  to  our  Malachi  again,  and  he  opens 
to  us  the  mysteries  of  Providence  and  Revelation, 
and  bids  us  believe  that  from  the  rising  of  the 
sun,  to  the  going  down  of  the  same,  a  pure  offer- 
ing is  offered  to  the  name  of  God !  And  once  more 
we  feel  it  true : 

Slowly  the  Bible  of  the  race  is  writ, 
And  not  on  paper  leaves  nor  leaves  of  stone  ; 
Each  age,  each  kindred,  adds  a  verse  to  it. 
Texts  of  despair  or  hope,  or  joy  or  moan. 


74  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

While  swings  the  sea,  while  mists  the  mountains  shroud. 
While  thunder's  surges  burst  on  cliffs  of  cloud, 
Still  at  the  prophets'  feet  the  nations  sit. 

The  greatness  of  this  conception  all  but  takes 
one's  breath  away.  We  are  bewildered  by  its  very 
daring.  We  decline  to  be  coerced  by  great  names. 
Though  our  prophet  may  be  a  "  messenger  "  of 
God,  and  though  his  words  are  in  our  Bible,  we 
take  our  courage  in  our  hands  and  demand:  Will 
this  that  he  says  bear  examination  in  the  light  of 
New  Testament  teaching?  Can  we  justify  it  at 
the  hands  of  Christ  or  His  Apostles  ?  Listen,  then, 
"  There  was  the  true  light  which  Hghteth  every 
man  coming  into  the  world."  Where  do  you  find 
those  words.?  In  the  imperishable  Prologue  to 
the  Gospel  according  to  John.  In  their  fulness, 
their  length  and  breadth  and  height  and  depth, 
we  have  never  understood  them — may  never  under- 
stand them.  At  the  least  they  teach  us  this — 
these  two  things  lie  on  the  surface : 

What  Whittier  has  said,  and  we  have  said 
after  him,  is  true.  He  is  but  quoting  the 
author  of  this  Prologue.  Truth  is  one.  The 
source  of  truth  is  the  God  of  truth.  God  is 
light  and  the  source  of  light.  His  is  the  light 
which  Zoroaster  saw  and  which  Buddha  followed 
from  afar.  What  is  true  and  beautiful  and  help- 
ful as  between  man  and  man  in  the  moral  teaching 
of  Confucius  is  from  above — from  the  Father 
of  lights  with  whom  is  no  variableness,  not  so  much 
as  the  shadow  cast  by  turning.  And  what  is  piti- 
less  with  the  sterner  preaching   of  the  Hebrew 


THE  CREED  OF  A  UNIVERSALIST     75 

prophets  in  ^schylus,  or  Euripides,  or  radiant 
with  a  ChristKke  conception  of  the  deathless  hu- 
man soul  in  Plato  and  Socrates,  is  born  of  that 
true  light  which  the  fourth  Gospel  affirms  lighteth 
every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world.  This  is  the 
first  thing. 

And  the  second  is  this:  There  is  no  human 
life  to  which  this  light  is  denied.  We  are  over- 
whelmed by  such  a  world-wide  view.  The  crude 
beliefs  of  other  days  rock  and  reel  beneath  our 
feet.  We  stand  amid  the  moving  ruins  of  a  hun- 
dred systems  of  theology,  whose  cramping  walls 
have  gone  down  in  heaps  before  the  breath  of  this 
mighty  truth.  For  truth  it  is,  if  Bible  words  are 
worth  the  paper  they  are  written  on.  This  is  the 
true  light  that  lighteth  every  man  coming  into 
the  world.  And  the  author  of  the  Prologue 
clasps  hands  across  the  centuries  with  the  last 
of  the  Hebrew  prophets,  "  From  the  rising  of 
the  sun  even  unto  the  going  down  of  the  same 
my  name  is  great  among  the  Gentiles :  and  in  every 
place  incense  is  offered  unto  my  name,  and  a  pure 
offering :  for  my  name  is  great  among  the  Gentiles, 
saith  the  Lord  of  hosts." 

Let  us  gather  up  some  of  the  helpful  lessons  of 
this  study  before  the  wonder  of  it  all  passes  from 
our  minds. 

First.  Here  is  hope,  as  we  take  the  Gospel 
message  to  the  heathen  and  the  nations  beyond. 
Imperfect  religions  abound — religions  which  have 
grown  corrupt — religions  in  which  it  is  impossible 
to  separate  the  superstitious  from  the  real.     But 


76  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

has  there  ever  been  a  false  religion?  I  doubt  it. 
That  of  which  their  sages  have  dreamed,  that 
which  they  have  seen  as  through  a  glass  darkly, 
that  which  has  come  to  them  in  shadow  shape  or 
spectral  mist  or  driving  cloud,  which  has  spoken 
to  them  by  thunder  voice  and  lightning  flash  or, 
on  a  loftier  plane,  by  the  mouth  of  the  prophetic 
spirits  of  their  own  race — that  in  its  fulness,  re- 
vealed by  Christ,  illumined  by  the  Holy  Spirit, 
we  declare  unto  them.  We  do  not  go  to  denounce 
the  false;  we  go  to  teach  the  true.  We  have  done 
with  the  blatant  spirit  which  shouts,  "  Down  with 
everything  that  is  up !  "  Ours  is  the  mood  of  Him 
of  whom  it  was  said  that  "  the  bruised  reed  He  will 
not  break,  the  dimly-burning  wick  He  will  not 
quench."  And  ours  is  the  stimulating  word,  "  Up 
with  everything  that  is  down  !  "  These  people  have 
not  been  without  the  light  that  lighteth  every  man 
that  cometh  into  the  world.  But  as  in  the  history 
of  our  spiritual  ancestors,  the  Hebrew  race  whose 
teachers  are  our  own,  the  lesser  lights  of  patriarch 
and  prophet  were  eclipsed  by  the  rising  of  the 
Sun  of  Righteousness,  so  have  we  to  tell  them  that 
once  in  the  history  of  mankind  the  Light  in  which 
is  no  darkness  at  all  has  shone  upon  the  hearts  of 
men ;  that  as  the  nations  have  walked  in  its  bright- 
ness they  have  had  to  say — in  no  other  way  could 
they  account  for  it — "  The  Word  has  taken  flesh 
and  dwelt  amongst  us :  He  is  the  way  and  the  truth 
and  the  light." 

Second.  Here  is  hope,  inexhaustible  hope,  in- 
destructible hope,  as  we  take  the  Gospel  to  poor 


THE  CREED  OF  A  UNIVERSALIST     77 

and  dwarfed  and  stunted  lives ;  to  hard  hearts, 
wicked,  cruel,  depraved — to  outward  sight  and 
sense  all  evil.  Deep  down  in  that  low  nature — 
perverted,  ruined,  buried  if  you  will — is  some  spark 
of  goodness  which  has  not  been  extinguished,  some 
faint  glimmer  of  divinity,  all  that  remains  of  the 
trailing  clouds  of  glory  with  which  the  life  came 
into  this  world,  but  still  attesting  that  it  is  God 
who  is  our  home.  I  speak  to  you  who  have  come 
to  close  quarters  with  the  incarnate  wickedness 
of  the  world.  You  have  seen  men  and  women 
de-humanised  by  self-indulgence  and  sin ;  seen  hu- 
man nature  debauched  and  degraded  until  it  seemed 
that  humanity  had  fled  and  what  remained  was 
bestial.  This  is  a  word  which  comes  to  you  winged 
with  eternal  hope.  The  early  Quakers  taught 
that  in  every  human  being  is  a  seed  of  Christ 
which,  under  fit  cultivation,  will  blossom  and  bear 
fruit.  Believe  it  for  your  comfort  and  for  your 
inspiration !  The  Christ  who  slept  in  the  boat 
while  the  storm  raged,  slumbers  in  the  heart  of 
every  one  of  us  while  tempests  of  passion  heave 
all  the  billows  of  sin's  angriest  seas.  But  this 
Christ  sleeping  within  us  will  wake  at  the  touch  of 
the  Christ  without,  and  the  Lord  will  have  His  own 
again.  I  refuse  to  believe  that  one  true  word 
spoken  in  love  falls  fruitless  to  the  ground.  I 
refuse  to  believe  that  a  headache  or  a  heartache 
or  anguish  of  the  soul  endured  for  love  of  God 
in  service  of  man  fails  of  its  redemptive  purpose. 
Emerson's  word  stands  true,  "  No  accent  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  a  heedless  world  has  ever  lost." 


78  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

And,  once  more,  here  is  hope  for  ourselves ! 
Here  is  rebuke  of  all  despair  concerning  our  own 
spiritual  life.  We  faint  and  fall  and  from  the 
depths  can  scarcely  raise  a  cry  for  pity  and  for 
help. 

Alas  ! — the  evil  which  we  fain  would  shun 
We  do,  and  leave  the  wished-for  good  undone: 

Our  strength  to-day 
Is  but  to-morrow's  weakness,  prone  to  fall. 
Poor,  blind,  unprofitable  servants  all 

Are  we  alway. 

Yet  goodness  is  natural  to  us.  We  ought  to  be 
good.  It  is  our  nature  to,  as  grass  ought  to  be 
green  and  flowers  beautiful ;  as  birds  ought  to 
sing,  and  men  and  women  and  little  children  love 
one  another,  and  this  old  world  spin  forever  down 
the  ringing  grooves  of  change,  urged  by  Love's 
propulsive  force.  You  may  do  as  you  like  about 
believing  in  original  sin.  "  We  all  sin  sometimes, 
and  some  of  us  sin  in  original  ways."  But  you 
must  believe  in  original  goodness.  Believe  when 
the  clouds  are  thickest  that  there  is  sunshine  in 
the  sky. 

So  far  have  these  words  carried  us.  They  will 
carry  us  further.  They  will  bring  us  to  the 
Saviour's  feet  as  we  go  out  to  seek  and  save  the 
lost.  There  we  shall  hear  His  voice  saying,  "  Fear 
not,  little  flock,  it  is  your  Father's  good  pleasure 
to  give  you  the  Kingdom."  And  as  the  dark 
betrayal  night  draws  near,  and  He  stands  in  the 
shadow  of  the  Cross,  we,  though  we  have  feared 
as  we  entered  the  cloud,  are  manifested  with  Him 


THE  CREED  OF  A  UNIVERSALIST     79 

in  glory.  The  darkness  rolls  away  in  heavenly 
light,  and  His  triumphant  voice  breaks  forth,  "  I, 
if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men  unto  me." 
The  poet  of  a  half  faith,  who  fought  his  doubts 
and  gathered  strength,  could  but  feebly 

Call 
To  what  he  felt  was  Lord  of  all, 
And  faintly  trust  the  larger  hope. 

But  this  morning  ours  is  no  half  faith,  nor  faint 
trust,  nor  feeble  call,  nor  technically  larger  hope. 
Our  transfigured  faith  in  the  crucified  and  risen 
Christ  warrants  the  largest  hopes  for  the  future 
of  our  race. 


V 

THE  GATE  CALLED  BEAUTIFUL 


V 

THE  GATE  CALLED  BEAUTIFUL 

"  He  who  sat  for  alms  at  the  Beautiful  Gate  of  the  Temple." 

— Acts  ni.  10. 

Happy  the  one  who  only  sits  and  waits  for  alms 
at  the  Beautiful  Gate  of  the  Temple !  So  it  be  a 
temple,  and  the  gate  be  beautiful,  he  will  not  sit 
and  wait  in  vain.  Happier  he  who  through  the 
gate  that  is  called  Beautiful  enters  into  the  temple 
of  the  Living  God.  Happiest  of  all  he  who,  enter- 
ing by  the  beautiful  gate,  finds  that  it  leads  to  the 
inner  sanctuary  of  deity,  and  brings  to  the  Holy 
of  Holies  his  ardent  spirit ! 

This  has  not  always  been  the  mood  of  religious 
minds.  There  have  been  times  in  the  Church's 
history  when  she  has  loved  ugliness  and  feared 
beauty,  when  self -repression  was  the  highest  virtue, 
and  gratification  of  the  aesthetic  sense  akin  to  low- 
est sins  of  the  flesh.  So  far  did  the  revolt  against 
Pagan  adoration  of  merely  physical  beauties  in 
the  human  form  carry  the  early  Fathers  of  the 
Church  that  they  invented  stories  concerning  the 
personal  appearance  of  our  Lord  which  in  this 
day  appal  us.  "  Base  of  aspect,"  says  Clement  of 
Alexandria ;  "  His  body  devoid  even  of  human 
nobleness,"  says  the  fierce  Tertullian,  with  other 

83 


84  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

foolish  utterances  which,  for  very  shame's  sake, 
if  not  from  utter  reverence,  I  will  not  quote.  In  a 
later  age  our  Protestant  and  Puritan  ancestors 
delighted — if  such  a  word  be  permitted  in  such  a 
connection — in  seeing  that  nothing  was  delightful. 
Whatsoever  things  were  without  colour,  form,  or 
beauty ;  whatsoever  things  were  dull  and  drab  and 
dreary;  whatsoever  was  barren  and  stunted  and 
ugly — these  were  the  fitting  approach  of  the  soul 
to  God.  There  was  reason  for  their  fear.  They 
started  back  in  horror  from  the  excesses  of  Catho- 
lic worship.  They  had  seen  a  corrupt  art  drive 
God  out  of  churches  built  for  His  glory.  They 
fell  back  on  the  great  saying  of  the  Apostle  Paul, 
as  he  stood  on  the  Areopagus  in  Athens,  with  the 
temple  of  Minerva  above  him  and  the  sanctuary 
of  the  Eumenides  below,  that  "  in  temples  made 
with  hands  God  does  not  dwell " ;  and  they  dared 
to  come  "  spirit  to  spirit,  ghost  to  ghost "  with 
God. 

Only  within  the  recollection  of  living  men  and 
women  have  we  come  to  think  of  the  Gate  Beauti- 
ful as  one  thrown  open  to  our  spirits  by  the  loving 
hand  of  God.  We  are  not  afraid  of  Art.  If  for 
our  church  buildings  we  erect  places  other  than 
the  best,  it  is  our  poverty  and  not  our  will  con- 
sents, the  feeling  that,  with  the  world's  work  wait- 
ing to  be  done  and  with  our  resources  limited, 
first  things  come  first.  But  our  pride  would  be 
the  pride  of  David,  even  though,  like  him,  we  may 
not  gratify  it :  "  Shall  we  raise  houses  of  cedar 
for  ourselves  while  the  ark  of  the  Lord  abides 


THE  GATE  CALLED  BEAUTIFUL       85 

within  curtains?"  And  we  should  agree  with 
Martineau :  "  It  is  ever  a  fatal  sign — of  Art  de- 
caying into  luxury  and  Religion  into  contempt — 
when  men  permit  the  House  of  God  to  be  meaner 
than  their  own."  We  would  glory  in  the  noblest 
forms  of  architecture  which  human  genius  could 
raise  on  high.  We  would  welcome  the  grandest 
music  with  all  its  pathos,  its  passion,  its  rapture, 
and  its  tears.  To-day  we  would  make  our  forms 
of  worship  stately,  rich,  harmonious,  the  highest 
that  is  in  us  seeking  the  Most  High.  The  Gate 
by  which  we  enter  His  temple  should  be  called 
Beautiful. 

This  changed  mood  of  the  Christian  Church  is 
not  accidental,  unthoughtful,  the  outcome  of 
freak,  caprice,  or  fashion.  It  corresponds  to  deep 
and  radical  changes  in  our  outlook  upon  the  soul 
and  God. 

God  is  now  more  beautiful  to  us.  We  have 
entered  into  the  heart  of  the  psalmist's  prayer, 
"Let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  be  upon 
us."  God  is  not  vengeful,  implacable,  terrible. 
We  do  not  fear  Him  as  men  have  feared  a  wolf. 
In  the  conceptions  that  men  have  formed  of  Him, 
He  has  loomed  out  of  a  mist  of  blood  and  tears, 
the  nightmare  of  the  world's  bad  sleep.  He  was 
jealous  of  human  love.  He  exacted  to  the  utter- 
most farthing.  He  could  only  be  appeased,  in 
His  fierce  wrath,  by  blood.  Men  fashioned  a  God 
out  of  the  stormy  elements  imprisoned  in  their  own 
breasts.  Jesus  has  taught  us  to  call  Him  Father. 
The  only  begotten  Son  who  was  in  the  bosom  of 


86     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

the  Father,  He  has  revealed  Him.  He  has  re- 
vealed Him  as  the  eternal  Love.  God  so  loved 
the  world  that  He  gave!  Gave!  There  is  no 
love  that  does  not  love  to  give.    God  so  loved! 

Nature  is  now  more  beautiful  to  us.  Our  mod- 
ern feeling  about  mountain  and  forest,  field  and 
stream,  moorland  and  meadow,  is  really  modern, 
something  new  in  the  history  of  the  race.  Byron 
said,  "  To  me  high  mountains  are  a  feeling,  but 
the  hum  of  human  cities  torture."  That  was  not 
affectation,  nor  was  it  mere  poetical  exaggeration. 
It  was  one  of  the  earliest  notes  of  the  great  nature- 
song  which  all  our  world  has  since  learned  to  sing. 
Mr.  Augustine  Birrell  takes  Gibbon  to  task  for 
sneering  at  Bernard  of  Clairvaux  because  of  his 
alleged  apathy  in  the  presence  of  natural  beauty. 
"  To  admire  or  despise  St.  Bernard  as  he  ought," 
says  the  author  of  "  The  Decline  and  Fall  "  in  his 
own  pompous  way,  "  the  reader  should  have  as  I 
have  before  the  windows  of  his  library  the  beau- 
ties of  this  incomparable  landscape  " — the  lake 
of  Geneva  with  its  background  of  Alps,  at  which 
the  saint  refused  to  look.  We  may  admit  that 
the  author  of  "  Jesus,  the  very  thought  of  Thee 
with  sweetness  fills  my  breast,"  and  of  "  Jesus, 
Thou  joy  of  loving  hearts,"  had  more  poetry  in 
his  little  finger  than  Gibbon  had  in  his  whole 
being ;  but  all  the  same  our  modern  sympathy  with 
nature  and  communion  with  her  heart  was  far 
from  him.  It  has  been  developed  from  the  clos- 
ing years  of  the  eighteenth  century  and  the  open- 
ing of  the  nineteenth,  developed  through  the  whole 


THE  GATE  CALLED  BEAUTIFUL       87 

of  the  last  century  and  showing  no  sign  of  hav- 
ing spent  its  force  in  the  dawn  of  this,  a  some- 
thing new,  added  on  to  the  faculty  and  the  pos- 
session of  the  race. 

In  this  new  sense  of  natural  beauty  we  have 
found  a  new  revelation  of  God.  The  words  are 
easily  spoken;  but  what  infinite  meanings  are 
there!  In  a  sermon  preached  some  months  ago 
I  declared  my  belief  that  the  revelation  which 
God  has  given  of  Himself  in  beauty  is  as  real  as 
any  which  God  has  given  and  man  received.*  Let 
me  tell  you  something  of  what  I  mean  by  that. 
Wordsworth's  lines  in  "  Tintern  Abbery "  will 
readily  occur  to  you  all: 

I  have  felt 
A  presence  that  disturbs  me  witli  the  joy 
Of  elevated  thoughts  ;  a  sense  sublime 
Of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused, 
"Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns, 
And  the  round  ocean  and  the  living  air, 
And  the  blue  sky,  and  in  the  mind  of  man. 

Less  often  quoted,  but  none  the  less  a  classical 
passage  in  this  connection,  are  the  famous  lines 
in  the  "  Excursion  "  in  which  it  is  recorded  of  the 
Wanderer : 

The  clouds  were  touched 
And  in  their  silent  faces  did  he  read 
Unutterable  love  1 

*  See  "  The  Ethics  of  Holidays  "  in  "  The  Courage  of  the 
Coward." 


88     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

And  then 

Rapt  into  still  communion  that  transcends 
The  imperfect  offices  of  prayer  and  praise 
His  mind  was  a  thanksgiving  to  the  power 
That  made  him. 

Here  he  re-interpreted  the  record  of  revelation, 
found  new  light  falling  upon  the  ancient  promises, 
and  saw  through  nature's  loveliness  the  meaning 
of  the  written  word  of  God : 

Oh,  then  how  beautiful,  how  bright  appeared 
The  written  promise  !    Early  had  he  learned 
To  reverence  the  volume  that  displays 
The  mystery,  the  life  which  cannot  die; 
But  in  the  mountains  did  he  feel  his  faith. 
Responsive  to  the  writings,  all  things  there 
Breathed  immortality. 

And  at  last : 

Nor  did  he  believe, — he  saw  1 

What  words  are  these  .^^  He  read,  felt,  saw!  He 
read  unutterable  love.  Rapt  into  still  communion, 
his  mind  was  a  thanksgiving.  The  written  prom- 
ise became  brighter  and  more  beautiful.  Early 
he  had  learned  to  reverence  the  volume;  but  in 
the  mountains  he  felt  his  faith ;  and  responsive 
to  the  Scripture,  all  things  breathed  immortality! 
This,  if  I  am  able  to  explain  my  meaning  clearly, 
is  different  from  the  awe  of  God  in  the  presence 
of  His  mighty  handiwork  displayed  in  "  Job  " 
and  in  some  of  the  greatest  of  the  Hebrew  psalms. 
The  majesty  of  God,  His  power  so  wonderful,  the 


THE  GATE  CALLED  BEAUTIFUL       89 

creative  glory  of  Almlghtiness,  these  are  celebrated 
in  strains  of  poetry  so  noble  that  in  the  world's 
literature  is  nothing  to  be  compared  to  them.  But 
that  is  not  quite  the  same  as  the  feeling  which 
I  am  so  awkwardly  trying  to  define.  This  is  a 
feeling  of  nearness,  approachableness,  intimacy, 
a  certain  undefined,  perhaps  indefinable,  yet  defi- 
nite consciousness  that  God  is  near.  You  know 
how  it  is  with  you  when,  without  hearing  or  see- 
ing somebody  come  in,  you  feel  that  a  person  has 
entered  the  room.  You  feel  his  presence.  You 
turn  your  head,  and  he  is  there.  You  are  not 
surprised;  you  knew  he  was.  It  is  something 
like  that.  The  loveliness  of  the  scene  has  brought 
to  you  a  strange,  deep  feeling.  It  has  prepared 
your  soul.    And  the  prepared  soul  feels  God  near. 

To  different  temperaments  Nature  makes  her 
appeal  robed  in  different  apparel.  For  this  one, 
the  rugged  grandeur  of  the  bare  mountain  peaks 
is  sufficient ;  to  another  they  seem  of  aspect  more 
sublime  when  curved  and  rounded  and  shrouded  in 
eternal  snow.  For  another,  the  interminable  for- 
ests, vast,  mysterious,  impenetrable,  have  their 
fascination.  While  the  gentler  moods  of  nature, 
incarnate  in  green  fields  and  peaceful  streams, 
possess  for  other  souls  the  sense  of  an  infinite 
calm. 

It  has  been  my  lot  to  watch  the  whole  year 
round,  from  May  to  May  again,  amid  Alpine 
snows  and  splendours.  I  have  watched  the  snow 
disappear  from  the  valley  beneath  me  and  then 
from  the  encircling  pine-woods.     Verdure  showed 


90     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

on  the  banks  of  the  turbulent  mountain  torrent, 
and  the  brave  old  fir  trees  waved  grim  and  grand 
around.  Slowly  the  summer  won  upon  the  snows, 
until  only  the  cloud-cleaving  crests  above  defied 
its  heat.  Soon  Autumn's  hand  was  heavy  on  the 
woods  again ;  the  green  of  the  meadows  and  blue 
of  the  forests  yielded  to  the  tints  of  the  Fall, 
until  from  the  grass  burnt  yellow  in  the  valley, 
through  blaze  of  crimson  on  the  mountain  side 
and  purple  patches  higher  still,  the  eye  followed 
from  glory  unto  glory,  and  rested  at  length  upon 
the  changeless  purity  of  virgin  snow.  Then  came 
winter  down  upon  us.  From  our  rocky  fastness 
we  looked  out  upon  a  world  of  ice,  and  the  hoar- 
frost upon  the  snow  fields  flashed  in  the  morning 
with  such  intolerable  brilliance  that  the  eye  could 
not  bear  its  blinding  light,  nor  the  brain  count 
the  myriad  diamond  points  within  a  single  inch 
of  it.  I  have  seen  the  Alpine  storm,  faced  its 
fury,  heard  the  roaring  of  the  wind,  loud  as  loud- 
est thunders  roll.  I  have  followed  the  track  of 
the  avalanche,  chmbed  to  its  heights  when  it  had 
done  its  best  and  worst,  and  tunnelled  to  its  depths 
as  the  days  passed  on.  And  I  have  seen  the  sweet- 
ness of  the  spring  once  more,  when  through  the 
drifted  snow,  the  forget-me-not,  the  anemone,  the 
snowdrop,  and  even  the  blush  of  the  rose,  have 
insinuated  the  suggestion  of  their  loveliness  into 
sunny  air.  And  so  to  the  summer  days  again! 
And  I  speak  some  of  the  deepest  feelings  of  my 
life  when  I  say  to  you  that  there  have  been  times 
amid  the  brilliance,  or  the  solemnity,  or  the  sweet- 


THE  GATE  CALLED  BEAUTIFUL       91 

ness,  or  amid  the  unutterable  and  sublime,  when 
the  hand  of  the  Infinite  has  drawn  my  spirit  out 
from  its  dwelling  amongst  finite  things,  thrust  it 
forth  into  the  invisible  to  live  in  eternity,  not  in 
the  past  nor  the  present  nor  the  future,  but  to 
live  in  and  realise  eternity,  and  I  have  walked  with 
deepening  faith  the  shining  hills  of  God.  I  knew  it 
before.  I  learned  it  in  the  meadow  paths,  even  as 
afterward  I  felt  it  on  the  mountain  stairs.  But 
that  year  brought  to  a  focus  the  conviction  of  my 
life:  the  revelation  of  Himself  which  God  makes 
in  beauty  is  a  new  and  progressive  knowledge 
which  it  is  the  Father's  good  pleasure  to  give  to 
His  children. 

Well,  now,  I  find  abundant  confirmation  of  aU 
this  in  the  works  of  the  acknowledged  leaders  of 
scientific  thought  in  our  day,  in  the  works  of  the 
nature-searchers,  the  botanists,  the  zoologists,  the 
biologists  of  every  kind.  I  find  confirmation  of  it 
— ^not  in  the  dogmatic  assertion  of  the  man  of 
science  that  God  is  speaking  to  man:  that  you 
would  not  expect — but  in  his  utter  failure  to  ac- 
count for  beauty  along  any  lines  of  Evolution 
which  leaves  God  out  of  account. 

You  know  how  the  Evolutionist  started  to  ex- 
plain the  presence  of  beauty  in  flower  and  tree  and 
bird  and  beast.  And  if  you  have  followed  the  worlc 
of  the  biologist  with  any  interest  in  these  later 
years,  you  know  how  dissatisfied  he  is  with  his  own 
explanations.  Nature's  method,  he  held,  was  that 
of  the  purest  utilitarianism.  Beauty  paid.  There- 
fore— Beauty  is !     Certain  colours  which  in  blend 


92     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

or  In  contrast  appeal  to  us  as  beautiful  had  been 
found  vitally  successful  to  plant  or  animal  in  the 
struggle  for  existence;  therefore,  they  had  per- 
sisted, and  through  natural  selection  grown  richer 
and  stronger,  while  they  multiplied  after  their 
kind.  The  principle  of  protective  colouring  ex- 
plained the  appearance  of  many  animals,  white 
in  arctic  beasts ;  yellow  or  brown  in  desert  species ; 
green  in  tropical,  evergreen  forests.  This  style 
of  colouration,  in  Mr.  Wallace's  words,  "  serves 
to  conceal  the  herbivorous  species  from  their  ene- 
mies, and  enables  carnivorous  animals  to  approach 
their  prey  un-perceived."  The  brilliant  plumage 
of  birds  is  the  accumulated  result  of  long,  long 
generations  of  display  by  the  male  bird  to  attract 
the  female.  The  bird  most  gorgeously  attired  was 
selected  as  mate,  and  handed  down  his  gorgeous- 
ness  with  intensifying  and  accumulating  potency 
to  his  descendants.  And  so  on  through  the  ages. 
And  Dr.  Newman  Smyth  expresses  our  feelings 
quite  admirably  when  he  says  of  such  theories : 

"  We  are  not  unwilling  to  listen  to  a  science 
which  introduces  us  to  courtsliips  and  loves  of 
the  birds  so  seemingly  human  in  their  methods,  as 
well  as  in  their  crosses  and  difficulties ; — methods 
of  bird-mating,  at  least,  which  involve  parties 
on  the  lawn,  dances  and  antics,  and  meetings  at 
times  in  quiet  secluded  spots,  during  which  all  the 
arts  of  attraction  are  practised,  and  in  the  course 
of  which  some  birds  will  become  so  absorbed  that 
they  will  appear  almost  blind  and  deaf,  and  others 
will  grow  quite  frantic,  while  rivalries  not  infre- 


THE  GATE  CALLED  BEAUTIFUL       93 

quently  end  in  battles ;"  but  before  all  is  said  and 
done,  we  confess  ourselves  very  sceptical  as  to 
the  results  obtained ! 

For  the  same  theory  comes  in  to  explain  in  part 
the  infinite  beauty  of  the  flowers.  Depending  for 
fertilisation  upon  the  services  of  insects  as  com- 
mon carriers,  flowers,  in  Darwin's  own  words, 
"  have  been  rendered  conspicuous  in  contrast  with 
the  green  leaves,  and  in  consequence  at  the  same 
time  beautiful,  so  that  they  may  be  easily  ob- 
served by  insects."  But  for  the  insects,  we  should 
have  had  *'  no  better  flowers  than  those  which 
we  see  on  fir,  oak,  and  ash  trees,  on  grasses,  docks, 
and  nettles,  which  are  all  fertihsed  through  the 
agency  of  the  winds."  A  very  satisfactory  ac- 
count of  the  existence  of  insects, — the  problem  that 
troubled  Martin  Luther, — and  a  great  comfort  to 
you  the  next  time  you  are  bitten  by  a  mosquito ! 

But  I  am  only  echoing  the  criticism  of  nature- 
searchers  themselves  when  I  say  that  these  theories 
are  much  too  complete.  They  prove  too  much. 
And  they  do  it  by  failing  to  take  account  of  many 
facts.  Critically  examined  by  many  observers 
since  Darwin,  the  facts  seem  to  warrant  the  state- 
ment that  some  of  the  colour  in  the  universe  can 
be  thus  explained,  but  not  all.  Such  observers  ask 
us  to  ponder  the  exquisite  loveliness  of  a  sea  shell. 
Whence  its  curves,  its  tints,  its  amazing  delicacy 
and  purity?  They  off^er  for  our  inspection  a 
piece  of  coral  from  ocean  depths,  bid  us  follow 
with  seeing  eye  the  inimitable  tracery  which  has 
lain  a  thousand  fathoms  deep  for  uncounted  thou- 


94     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

sands  of  years,  and  say  what  sexual  selection,  pro- 
tective colouring,  or  submarine  transportation 
scheme  will  account  for  it.  They  bid  us  stroll 
through  the  broad  walks  of  Central  Park  in  the 
Fall,  or  lose  ourselves  for  a  single  day  in  the 
tangled  depths  of  the  Adirondack  woods.  What 
theory  now  will  explain  the  autumn  tints.?  Saw 
you  ever  such  russet  and  gold,  such  yellow,  brown, 
and  olive.''  And  what  conceivable  use  is  it  to  the 
trees?  So  the  men  of  science  themselves  point 
our  doubts  of  these  theories  too  complete ;  then 
add,  with  crushing,  accumulated  scepticism,  first, 
that  conspicuousness  would  have  done  just  as  well, 
without  harmony,  blend,  or  beauty;  second,  that, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  there  are  many  most  beauti- 
ful flowers  which  do  not  depend  on  insects  for 
fertilisation ;  and  finally,  which  seems  to  make  all 
argument  before  and  after  superfluous,  that  in- 
sects are  not  attracted  by  colour  at  all. 

There  is  an  object  in  this  study.  Let  us  try 
to  think  clearly,  informingly,  about  this  world 
of  beauty.  A  blind  man  knows  it  is  beautiful. 
Year  by  year  we  are  learning  better  how  beauti- 
ful, for  the  eye  is  being  trained  to  see  and  the 
heart  to  enjoy.  Whence  does  this  beauty  come.'' 
The  argument  I  am  trying  to  put  before  you  is 
summed  up  in  Browning's  cry :  "  O  world  as  God 
made  it!  All  is  beauty."  And  God  made  it  to 
reveal  Himself.  Let  us  linger,  then,  amid  some 
scenes  of  glory  in  which  we  find  what  I  may  be 
permitted  to  call  a  superabundance  of  beauty,  a 
prodigality   of  loveliness   for   which   there  is   no 


THE  GATE  CALLED  BEAUTIFUL       95 

reason  in  nature  and  no  use  save  the  gladness  of 
God's  children.  Nature  strives  after  beauty,  so 
it  seems  to  me,  struggles  for  it,  and  is  not  con- 
tent until  she  has  scattered  a  glory  which  is  all 
her  own  over  all  her  works,  from  the  field  of 
waving  corn  when  the  wind  whispers  in  the  wheat 
to  the  wondrous  landscapes  which  the  frost  spreads 
out  upon  the  window  pane.  What  is  the  use  of 
a  sunset?  What  cosmic  purpose  can  it  serve.'' 
Some  years  ago  I  had  in  England  a  little  house 
by  the  sea.  Its  windows  opened  to  the  west. 
It  stood  on  a  spot  which  Turner  had  made  his 
resort  for  months  and  years.  There  he  studied 
the  effect  of  sunset  on  golden  sand  and  reced- 
ing wave.  The  results  of  his  untiring  observa- 
tions are  hung  on  the  walls  of  the  National 
Gallery  in  London.  And  when  people  say,  "  But 
I  never  saw  such  sunsets  as  those,"  I  answer,  "  Yet 
I  have  lived  in  the  light  of  such  setting  suns." 
And  I  have  believed  that  no  such  sunsets  were  to 
be  found  elsewhere  in  all  the  world-  But  a  week 
or  two  ago,  in  a  favoured  corner  of  what  Mrs. 
Hemans  has  taught  us  to  call  "  the  wild  New 
England  shore,"  not  wild,  but  wondrous  calm  and 
fair,  I  looked  out  upon  a  golden  glory  which 
transfigured  earth  and  sea  and  sky  with  a  splen- 
dour like  to  that  of  the  imagined  rainbow  round 
the  throne.  Black  bars  turning  to  molten  gold; 
from  its  height  to  the  far  horizon  the  sky  all 
colour  and  fire ;  the  slumbering  sea,  here  a  shadow- 
less crimson  and  there,  under  the  arch  of  sunless 
blue,  a  vivid  green  melting  into  a  transcendent 


96     OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

opal,  with  colours  for  which  there  is  no  name — 
and  we  stood  in  the  presence  of  God. 

It  is  a  religious  question,  a  deeply  religious 
question:  What  use  is  all  this  beauty?  John 
Ruskin  answers :  "  It  is  quite  certain  it  is  all  done 
for  us,  and  for  our  perpetual  pleasure."  Do  you 
challenge  the  conclusion  of  the  great  prophet  of 
nature.''  But  science  has  failed  to  account  for 
beauty,  for  its  abundance  and  its  super-abundance. 
Why  should  we  not  trust  the  instinct  of  the  soul.'' 
"  It  is  quite  certain  it  is  all  done  for  us  and  for 
our  perpetual  pleasure  " — that  through  the  Gate 
that  is  called  Beautiful  we  may  enter  the  temple 
of  God. 

And  this  is  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter: 
There  is  no  use  in  beauty  except  the  joy  it  gives 
— in  many  forms  of  beauty.  No  theory  of  utility 
will  account  for  all,  the  teachers  of  science  them- 
selves being  witnesses.  May  it  not  be  a  provision 
of  an  all-loving  Intelligence  for  us.f"  And  is  it 
not  His  way,  or,  rather,  one  of  His  ways,  of  re- 
vealing Himself  to  the  seeing  eye  and  speaking 
to  the  waiting  heart.''  It  is  no  argument  against 
the  suggestion  that  it  may  have  been  designed  by 
God  to  reveal  Him  that  its  meaning  and  message 
has  dawned  upon  our  souls  at  this  late  hour  of 
human  thought.  Christ  Himself  could  not  tell  all 
that  was  in  His  heart  to  tell.  He  had  many  things 
to  say  to  His  disciples,  but  they  could  not  bear 
them  then.  The  Spirit  of  Truth  was  promised, 
who  should  lead  God's  children  into  truth.  Divine 
omnipotence  never  slumbers:  divine  tenderness  is 


THE  GATE  CALLED  BEAUTIFUL       97 

inexhaustible.  A  new  argument  is  added  to  our 
apologetic ;  a  new  reason  appears  for  the  faith 
that  is  in  us ;  a  new  word  from  the  Father-heart 
has  spoken  to  our  own.  Man  is  no  child  of  chaos 
and  of  storm.  We  are  not  orphans  in  a  cosmos 
whose  first,  last  names  are  molecules,  atoms,  and 
ether.  From  before  the  day  when  this  old  earth 
was  young  and  whirled  potential  in  swathes  of  fire 
mist,  when  the  immortal  spirit  of  Adam's  race 
slept  in  protoplasmic  germ,  you  were  present  to 
the  Father's  thought,  and  He  stored  His  measure- 
less universe  with  beauty  for  the  joy  of  your  heart, 
and  that  through  it  He  might  reveal  Himself 
to  you. 


VI 

ALL  SAINTS 


VI 

ALL  SAINTS 

"  Called  to  be  Saints."— Romans  i.  7. 

Thikteen  hundred  years  ago  the  Church  gathered 
from  their  burial  place  in  the  Catacombs  of  Rome 
the  remains  of  nameless  Christians  who,  in  the  days 
of  persecution,  had  endured  as  seeing  Him  who  is 
invisible,  and,  dying,  had  won  the  martyr's  crown. 
The  Pantheon,  that  noble  monument  of  Pagan 
greatness,  opened  to  receive  dust  and  ashes  once 
animated  by  fiery  spirits  who  had  planted  the  Cross 
above  the  highest  citadels  of  the  Pagan  world. 
In  honour  of  these  unknown  heroes,  as  great  as 
the  greatest  heroes  known.  Pope  Boniface  IV.  in- 
stituted the  festival  of  All  Saints.  As  time  passed 
on,  the  pious  thought  came  to  generous  souls  that 
in  this  feast  might  be  commemorated  not  only  all 
those  who  had  died  in  the  arena  and  been  buried  in 
the  Catacombs,  but  all  true,  valiant  saints  of  God 
who,  in  any  age  and  country,  had  lived  and  died 
for  Christ.  Our  Saxon  forefathers  loved  the  feast. 
We  call  it  All  Hallows,  after  their  haltgan,  to 
make  holy ;  and  the  innocent  sports  which  a  thou- 
sand years  ago  seemed  almost  worship  linger  still 
amongst  both  simple  and  cultured  souls  who,  in 
101 


102  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

the  pitiless  rush  of  the  twentieth  century,  delight 
to  call  back  the  past  again.  Yet  neither  Roman 
martyrdom,  Saxon  sports,  nor  rustic  superstition 
is  uppermost  in  my  mind  as  to-day  I  invite  you 
to  join  me  in  the  celebration  of  All  Saints'  Day. 

To  me  the  very  phrase  is  holy.  All  Saints! 
Our  hearts  thrill  with  the  boldness  of  the  concep- 
tion. There  is  in  it  the  virtue  which  the  Hebrew 
reckoned  highest  —  magnanimity :  large-minded- 
ness.  There  is  in  it  the  grace  which  Christianity 
holds  dearest  —  philanthropy :  large-heartedness. 
It  rings  with  a  sound  of  bigness  and  bravery.  It 
glows  with  our  broadest  hopes.  It  kindles  with 
our  universal  love.  The  wideness  of  God's  mercy 
is  in  it,  like  the  wideness  of  the  sea.  It  softens 
our  souls  with  a  sweet  sense  of  human  goodness, 
underlying  all  creeds,  leaping  every  barrier  of 
clime  and  race  and  colour,  uniting  pope  and 
peasant,  levelling  all  ranks,  and  comprehending 
all  good  men  and  women  everywhere  in  one  divine, 
eternal  benediction.  This  is  what  Lowell — who  is 
peculiarly  our  poet,  because  he  has  felt  everything 
which  in  our  large  humanity  we  have  felt,  and 
spoken  it  when  we  could  not — this  is  what  Lowell 
means  Avhen  he  says: 

One  feast,  of  holy  days  the  crest, 

I,  though  no  Churchman,  love  to  keep, 
All-Saints — the  unknown  good  that  rest 

In  God's  still  memory  folded  deep. 
The  bravely  dumb  who  did  their  deed. 

And  scorned  to  blot  it  with  a  name. 
Men  of  the  plain  heroic  breed, 

That  loved  Heaven's  silence  more  than  fame. 


ALL  SAINTS  103 

With  joy  we  keep  the  feast  to-day,  and  with 
profound  thanksgiving.  We  praise  the  good  God 
for  all  good  people  everywhere. 

There  are  times  when  we  are  impressed,  not  by 
the  goodness  of  life,  but  by  its  wickedness.  Per- 
haps we  have  been  called  upon  to  pass  through 
a  bitter  experience  in  which  the  sun  has  been 
blotted  out  of  the  heavens  and  our  souls  have 
been  steeped  in  fog.  It  has  been  a  time  of 
disappointment,  disillusionment,  when  we  have 
learned  the  hollowness  of  what  we  took  for  friend- 
ship, and  have  found  more  bitterness  than  quaint- 
ness  in  the  Old  Testament  proverb,  "  As  a  broken 
tooth  or  a  foot  out  of  joint,  so  is  the  unfaithful 
friend  in  the  day  of  trouble."  Perhaps  we  have 
come  to  close  quarters  with  the  incarnate  selfish- 
ness of  the  world,  have  seen  the  crushed,  maimed, 
broken  victims  of  our  social  system,  and  cried  out 
in  our  agony  of  pity  against  man's  inhumanity 
to  man  which  makes  countless  thousands  mourn. 
Perhaps  we  have  had  to  live  through  a  short  but 
heartbreaking  period  of  popular  fury,  when  the 
fountains  of  the  great  deep  have  been  broken  up 
in  man's  lower  nature,  and  floods  of  evil  pas- 
sion have  swept  over  the  face  of  the  earth.  And 
it  cannot  be  denied  that  there  are  times  in  the 
experience  of  every  nation  when  short  and  nar- 
row views  may  be  taken  which  lead  to  the  judg- 
ment that  the  mass  of  mankind  is  either  bad  or 
mad. 

If  you  are  driven  to  the  horns  of  any  such 
dilemma,  elect  to  believe  that  that  it  is  a  mad 


104  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

world,  my  masters.  Hold  that  the  population  of 
the  world  is  so  many  milhons,  mostly  fools.  Say 
that  the  majority  of  people  are  ineffective.  De- 
clare that  we  are  generally  incompetent.  Assert 
that  we  are  all  blockheads  together,  slow  to  learn, 
without  imagination,  dull-witted,  too  short-sighted 
to  see  where  our  folly  strikes  a  friend,  too  stupid 
to  perceive  how  it  wounds  him.  We  are  ignorant, 
easily  misled  by  small,  corrupt  minorities,  bearing 
no  sort  of  numerical  proportion  to  the  kind-hearted 
credulous  crowds  whom  they  deceive.  Believe  that, 
and  say  that,  and  more  than  that,  if  you  will.  It 
is  nearer  to  fact  and  less  dishonouring  to  man 
and  his  Maker  than  a  postulate  of  universal  de- 
pravity. That,  I  bid  you  deny.  Deny  that  in- 
gratitude, treachery,  cruelty,  exercise  an  over- 
lordship  over  human  hearts.  Great,  let  us  admit, 
is  the  mystery  of  iniquity.  But  how  much  greater 
is  the  mystery  of  saintship !  In  the  world  as  we 
know  it,  the  world  as  it  is,  the  sordid,  brutal 
world  as  it  seems  to  us  in  our  hours  of  gloom,  the 
wonder  is  not  why  people  should  be  so  bad;  the 
wonder  is  how  they  come  to  be  so  good!  There 
is  more  loyalty  than  perfidy.  There  is  more  kind- 
ness than  cruelty.  There  is  more  comradeship 
than  enmity.  There  is  more  blessing  than  cursing. 
There  is  more  love  than  hate.  The  majority  of 
people  would  rather  help  a  friend  than  hinder  a 
foe.  They  would  sooner  bring  smiles  of  gladness 
to  your  lips  than  tears  of  sadness  to  your  eyes. 
They  would  rather  do  good  than  evil  any  day. 
And  the  good  that  men  do,  that  men  daily  do,  not 


ALL  SAINTS  105 

knowing  what  they  do,  rises  in  ceaseless  streams 
of  praise  to  the  throne  of  God. 

Think  of  the  commonplace  goodness  of  our  own 
little  lives:  the  joys  of  home,  parental  care,  the 
fond  deep  love  of  husband  and  of  wife,  tried  as 
by  furnace  fires  through  twenty,  thirty,  forty 
years  of  joy  and  sorrow,  success  and  bafflement, 
and  by  God's  grace  stronger  for  the  trial;  the 
daily  sacrifice  of  ease  and  pleasure  by  hearts  so 
charged  with  love  that  "  sacrifice "  is  the  last 
word  of  mortal  speech  which  they  would  dream  of 
using.  This  day  a  million  homes  are  warmed  and 
lit  by  the  unthinking  goodness  of  men  and  women 
whose  goodness  is  as  natural  and  spontaneous  as 
the  shining  of  the  stars. 

Think  of  the  hallowed  drudgery  of  the  sick- 
room. Think  how  men  sometimes  and  women  al- 
ways pour  out  their  souls  in  exhausting,  menial, 
glorious  service,  never  pausing  to  think  that  it 
is  not  the  most  every-day  thing  in  the  world. 
Think  how  this  drudgery,  through  the  darkness, 
blazes  heaven-high  with  divinity.  I  knew  a  woman 
whose  husband  was  suffering  from  concussion  of 
the  brain.  As  she  knelt  beside  his  bed,  with  her 
arm  beneath  his  neck,  he  fell  asleep.  She  thought 
that  if  he  could  but  pass  into  a  natural  sleep,  his 
reason  and  his  life  might  be  saved.  She  would  not 
move,  lest  she  should  wake  him.  And  the  hours 
passed.  When  others  came  into  the  room,  she 
motioned  them  away.  When  doctors  came,  she 
would  but  suffer  them  to  write  their  message  and 
go.      She  knelt  there,  defying  the  calls  of  her 


106  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

physical  being  for  food,  drink,  rest,  sleep,  for 
twenty-six  hours,  and  he  died  in  her  arms. 

Think  of  the  comradeship  of  the  poor,  their 
laughing  recklessness  of  the  consequences  of  their 
helpfulness,  the  silent,  divine  heroism  of  the 
slums. 

Think  of  the  devotion,  enthusiasm,  passion  of 
humanity,  represented  in  this  congregation  and 
in  ten  thousand  congregations,  and  in  all  the  moral 
movements  of  the  land. 

Think  of  the  sublimities  to  which  our  human  na- 
ture soars  in  the  hour  of  catastrophe  and  sudden 
death.  There  is  no  wreck  at  sea,  no  railway  acci- 
dent, no  colliery  explosion,  no  fire  where  people  are, 
when  the  God  within  us  does  not  break  through 
every  wrapping  of  our  frail  earth,  and  show  Him- 
self for  what  He  is — eternal  love.  One  Saturday 
afternoon  a  great  liner  was  being  towed  up  the 
Mersey  past  the  Liverpool  landing-stage.  The 
river  was  crowded  with  traffic.  The  ferry  steamers 
were  packed  with  people.  The  sun  was  shining. 
It  was  a  delightful  scene.  And  suddenly  the  rope 
fouled,  the  rope  between  tug  and  liner.  The 
stately  vessel,  with  the  *'  way  "  on  her,  held  her 
course  while  the  tug  slowed  down.  The  big 
steamer  quietly  pushed  the  tug  over,  and  she  dis- 
appeared. Men  who  saw  it  tell  me  the  rapidity 
with  which  men  from  surrounding  craft  were  in 
the  boats  or  in  the  river  was  one  of  the  incredible, 
unforgettable  things  of  a  lifetime.  Never  squirrel 
climbed  a  tree  faster  than  these  men  rushed  to 
their  post, — live  or  die,  what  mattered  it  when  life 


ALL  SAINTS  107 

was  to  be  loyally  given  or  life  to  be  lovingly  saved  ? 
Pleasure  may  pall.  Luxury  may  cloy.  Fame  may 
nauseate.  But  the  call  to  sacrifice,  hardship,  devo- 
tion, chivalry,  never  fails.  And  to  that  call,  age 
by  age,  the  brave  heart  answers,  Lord,  here 
am  I! 

The  essential  thing  is  that  we  should  recognise 
each  other  as  saints.  If  we  could  do  that,  if  we 
could  all  do  it,  if  by  some  stroke  of  divine  wizardry 
the  veil  which  is  upon  our  hearts  could  be  torn 
away,  the  winter  of  our  discontent  would  be  glori- 
ous summer,  and  the  dreary  deserts  of  senseless 
rivalries  would  flourish  as  the  Paradise  of  God. 
But  we  mis-know  one  another.  We  misunderstand. 
We  see  each  other  all  wrong,  and  inside  out,  and 
upside  down.  There  are  some  who  always  put 
their  worst  side  outward,  and  we  are  not  to  blame 
because  we  do  not  see  the  best  that  is  in  them. 
And  sometimes  we  fail  to  see  the  man  because  of 
the  label  which  he  wears.  I  am  asserting  the  good- 
ness of  mankind,  not  its  ability !  A  little  elemen- 
tary wisdom  would  satisfy  the  ordinary  person 
that  a  man  is  larger  than  a  baggage  tag.  But 
a  man  labels  himself  Ritualist,  or  Romanist,  or 
Methodist,  or  Baptist — or  some  other  ist — and 
straightway  we  look  so  hard  at  the  label  that  we 
never  see  the  man.  So  with  sects,  parties,  denomi- 
nations, and  the  like.  They  dwarf  the  man  until 
we  lose  him  in  the  crowd.  It  is  difficult  for  us  all  to 
appreciate  a  form  of  goodness  which  is  greatly  dif- 
ferent from  our  own.  Evangelicals  fail  to  appre- 
ciate goodness  which  is  fed  by  sacraments,  fostered 


108  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

by  mechanical  prayers,  and  directed  by  a  priest 
in  absolution.  Men  of  liberal  theology  fail  to 
appreciate  the  goodness  which  is  developed  by 
hysterical  contemplation  of  the  physical  agonies 
of  Jesus.  And,  in  the  same  way,  the  Catholic  and 
the  Evangelical  fail  to  appreciate  in  us  the  good- 
ness which  is  born  of  the  touch  of  God  upon  the 
naked  soul  of  man. 

Yet  this  is  the  essential  thing — that  the  saints 
should  know  one  another. 

Perhaps  we  shall  be  helped  if  we  spare  a  mo- 
ment to  recollect  the  original  idea  of  saintship. 
The  first  idea  of  "  holy  "  was  that  of  something 
set  apart,  set  apart  for  the  service  or  the  sacrifice 
of  God.  Necessarily,  that  which  was  set  apart 
for  God  was  without  spot  or  blemish.  So  that 
the  "  holy  "  thing  was  that  which  was  free  from 
taint  or  defect.  So  the  word  "  holy  "  comes  to 
mean  what  we  now  mean  by  it.  The  "  saint  "  is 
the  "  holy  "  person,  and  the  definition  should  be 
wide  enough  to  include  us  all.  How  sane  are  all 
the  Bible  conceptions,  when  you  get  to  the  heart 
of  them!  All  who  are  setting  themselves  to  the 
service  of  God ;  all,  thus  set  to  service,  whose  lives 
are  sweet,  true,  and  brave — these  are  the  saints. 
And  this  universality  of  consecration  recalls  an- 
other of  the  great  sayings  of  Lowell,  as  great  as 
the  one  I  have  already  quoted : 

And  all  the  way  from  Calvary  down 

The  carven  pavement  shows 
Their  graves  who  won  the  martyr's  crown 

And  safe  in  God  repose  ; 


ALL  SAINTS  109 

The  saints  of  many  a  warring  creed 
Who  now  in  heaven  have  learned 

That  all  paths  to  the  Father  lead 
Where  self  the  feet  have  spurned. 

But  now  let  me  make  a  larger  demand  upon  your 
magnanimity,  upon  your  catholicity,  and  upon  my 
own.  Let  us  consider  some  of  those  aspects  of 
saintship  which  are  furthest  removed  from  our  own 
methods  of  thought  and  from  our  views  of  duty 
and  righteousness.  Let  us  look  at  some  of  those 
manifestations  of  saintship  which  seem  to  us  not 
merely  abnormal,  but  even  repugnant.  Let  us  try 
to  find  the  essential  and  abiding  goodness  there. 

And  suppose  we  take  the  worst  first:  the  asceti- 
cism and  mortification  of  the  saints.  If  I  have 
been  so  fortunate  as  to  induce  any  great  and  genial 
thoughts,  I  am  in  danger  of  dissipating  them 
when  I  proceed  to  discuss  these  aberrations  of 
piety.  Few  of  us  are  able  to  think  of  them  with 
tolerance.  We  cannot  control  the  physical  im- 
pulse of  horror.  We  feel  sick  when  we  read  the 
lives  of  the  saints.  When  we  consider  what  ten 
thousand  women  bore — when  we  look  at  the  St. 
Elizabeths  of  Hungary  and  of  a  hundred  lands — 
we  are  ready  to  fly  at  the  throat  of  all  the  Con- 
rads  in  the  world.  We  read,  until  we  rage  with 
indignation  and  shudder  with  disgust.  I  do  not 
care  to  repeat  the  stories.  They  can  be  read  in 
the  books.  Laceration,  scourging,  torture,  starva- 
tion, fire,  blood — these  things  will  bear  thinking 
about.  But  the  other  stories  of  filth  and  name- 
less foulness  in  which  the  saints  indulged  are  too 


110  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

hideous  and  too  indecent  even  for  reading  in  silence 
and  alone. 

But  what  is  behind  and  beneath  it  all?  Volun- 
tary humiliation.  Yes;  but  what  beneath  that.f* 
The  crushing  of  all  pride,  the  subjugation  of  the 
flesh,  the  suppression  of  personal  will,  the  attain- 
ment of  absolute  selflessness  in  obedience  to  the 
Will  of  God.  And  that  is  not  to  be  despised.  The 
typical  crime  of  the  universe,  the  essential  sin  out 
of  which  spring  all  sins,  trivial  and  colossal,  is 
the  determination  to  pursue  your  own  interest  or 
pleasure  without  regard  to  the  consequences  en- 
tailed upon  other  people.  Whether  in  driving  an 
automobile  furiously  along  a  busy  street,  regard- 
less of  the  feelings  of  the  crowd,  or  in  drinking 
a  bottle  of  beer  or  a  glass  of  wine,  heedless  of  the 
influence  of  your  act  upon  the  sinning,  suff^ering 
mass  of  human  life,  the  essential  sin  is  the  pursuit 
of  your  own  ends  without  care  for  the  eff'ect  upon 
others  than  yourself.  And,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  essential  virtue,  the  protoplasmic  germ  of  all 
far-shining,  god-like  heroism,  is  in  the  acceptance 
of  the  Will  of  God  as  the  one  unalterable  rule  of 
personal  life.  And  these  loathsome  forms  of  saint- 
ship  are  the  assertion  of  a  soul  to  whom  no  other 
assertion  is  possible  that  at  all  costs,  by  every 
sacrifice,  self-will  must  give  place  to  the  Will  of 
the  Eternal. 

And  you  are  called  to  be  saints. 

Another  aspect  of  saintship,  not  repugnant,  but 
yet  removed  from  our  ways  of  regarding  life,  is 
covered  by  the  phrase,  "  I  believe  in  the  Com- 


ALL  SAINTS  111 

munion  of  Saints."  I  do  not  know  what  Is  meant 
now  when  this  phrase  in  the  Apostles'  Creed  Is 
recited.  I  know  what  It  meant  on  the  hps  of  the 
old  creed-builders.  It  asserted  the  communion  of 
the  living  with  the  dead.  We  know  to  what  lengths 
that  doctrine  was  carried  In  ages  that  are  past. 
We  are  not  likely,  we  Protestants,  to  speak  re- 
spectfully of  the  practices  which  grew  up  round 
the  Invocation  of  the  saints.  But  In  our  day, 
amongst  some  refined  persons,  there  Is  a  realisa- 
tion of  this  communion  which  I  find  very  beau- 
tiful. It  is  seen,  so  far  as  I  know,  at  Its  very 
best  amongst  French  Catholics,  for  It  is  amongst 
the  French  that  a  reverence  for  death,  unknown 
amongst  us,  has  been  preserved.  On  the  "  Day 
of  all  the  Dead  "  men  and  women  visit  the  graves 
of  their  loved  ones,  then  pay  visits  to  the  homes 
of  scattered  members  of  the  family,  and  think 
about  those  whom  they  have  lost.  One  of  the 
greatest  of  French  writers — perhaps  the  greatest 
of  the  psychological  novelists — opens  a  powerful 
story  with  a  scene  which  affords  a  glimpse  at  the 
whole  purpose  of  the  book.  A  young  girl,  return- 
ing with  her  father  from  the  cemetery  on  the 
"  Day  of  all  the  Dead,"  speaking  of  the  man  who 
loves  her,  who  Is  an  unbeliever,  demands,  in  hope- 
less bewilderment  that  life  can  be  lived  on  such 
terms,  "  But  if  one  lives  not  with  his  dead,  how 
can  family  life  he  possible?  "  * 

We  are  not  here  on  solid  standing  ground.     I 

*  Paul  Bourget :  L'etappe.     I  do  not  know  whether  it  has 
yet  been  published  in  English. 


112  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

do  not  know  what  is  reality  and  what  is  lovely 
imagination.  Nay,  I  do  not  know  whether  the 
Imagination  is  not  more  real  than  the  Reality. 
But,  whatever  the  facts  may  be,  would  not  life 
become  more  beautiful,  more  full  of  meaning  and 
power,  and  would  not  death  become  more  bearable, 
less  fraught  with  bitterness  and  madness,  if,  like 
the  girl  in  Paul  Bourget's  story,  we  could  "  live 
with  our  dead  "  ?  Would  you  not  like  to  think 
that  they  with  you  form  an  unbroken  family  circle, 
though  round  your  family  altar  the  lights  burn 
low,  and  some  dear  ones  sit  out  of  sight.''  Would 
it  not  be  a  joy  to  feel  that  though  they  have  gone 
into  a  far  country,  they  are  still  very  near?  How 
inspiring  it  would  be  to  carry  with  you  the  blessed 
assurance  that  at  midnight  in  the  silence  of  the 
sleep  time  when  you  set  your  fancies  free,  and  at 
noonday  in  the  bustle  of  man's  worktime,  unseen 
hands  which  once  you  loved  caress  you,  and  to 
them  who  have  been  the  angels  of  your  fireside  God 
has  now  given  charge  concerning  you  ?  Christ  has 
brought  life  and  immortality  to  light  in  His  Gos- 
pel. Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord !  I 
believe  in  the  Communion  of  Saints. 

There  is  one  other  view  of  saintship  from  which 
we,  who  are  called  to  be  saints,  may  learn  some- 
thing. And  again  we  are  in  the  presence  of  a 
form  of  piety  which  has  seemed  to  us  highly 
reprehensible. 

The  habit  of  retiring  from  the  world  has 
merited  and  received  our  sternest  censures.  The 
philanthropist  condemns  it  as  a  cowardly  shrink- 


ALL  SAINTS  113 

ing  from  human  duties.  The  sociologist  condemns 
it  as  an  offence  against  the  race,  alleging  that 
while  the  Church  burned  the  most  daring,  it  shut 
up  in  monasteries  and  nunneries  the  most  refined, 
leaving  the  task  of  replenishing  the  earth  to  the 
most  unfit.  The  psychologist  ridicules  it  as  a 
plain  invitation  to  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the 
devil  to  make  their  home  in  the  prepared  and 
morbid  mind.  The  historian  declares  that  what 
the  psychologist  said  was  bound  to  happen,  did 
happen ;  that  the  one  devil  from  whom  the  saint 
had  fled  in  the  city,  took  to  himself  seven  devils 
more  in  the  cell  and  the  secret  place.  And  I  have 
read  a  Catholic  plea  on  behalf  of  these  "  clois- 
tered "  or  "  contemplative  "  orders  which  seems  to 
me,  considering  that  it  has  been  issued  within  the 
last  few  years  by  a  living  man — and  a  Parisian, — 
one  of  the  strangest  things  which  ever  fell  from 
the  brain  of  man.  The  author  was  converted  to 
Roman  Catholicism  in  middle  life,  after  writing, 
among  other  books,  a  frightful  study  of  unknown 
forms  of  wickedness,  a  study  of  Satanism,  a  cult 
whose  devotees  from  the  middle  ages  onward  to 
our  own  time  in  the  heart  of  Paris  worship  the 
Devil  for  the  purpose  of  outraging  Christ.  This 
book  *  shows  the  workings  of  a  mind  of  ripest 
culture,  soiled  by  indulgence  in  horrible  sins,  in 
contact  with  the  solemnest  offices  of  the  Catholic 
faith.  Among  the  developments  of  Catholicism 
which  repel  him  are  these  establishments  of  "  idle  " 
monks  and  nuns.  And  an  abbe  is  represented  as 
*  En  Route :  Huysmans. 


114  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

offering  to  this  man  of  letters  an  explanation 
which  he  is  able  to  accept.  I  must  read  it  to 
you : — "  They  are  the  lightning  conductors  of 
society.  They  draw  on  themselves  the  demoniacal 
fluid,  they  absorb  temptations  to  vice,  preserve  by 
their  prayers  those  who  live,  like  ourselves,  in  sin ; 
they  appease,  in  fact,  the  wrath  of  the  Most  High, 
that  He  may  not  place  the  earth  under  an  inter- 
dict. Ah !  while  the  sisters  who  devote  themselves 
to  nursing  the  sick  and  infirm  are  indeed  ad- 
mirable, their  task  is  easy  in  comparison  with  that 
undertaken  by  the  Cloistered  Orders,  the  Orders 
where  penance  never  ceases,  and  the  very  nights 
spent  in  bed  are  broken  by  sobs."  What  do  you 
think  of  that.f*  Are  we  dreaming?  Or  are  we 
living  in  the  dark  ages?  Is  there  in  Paris  or 
upon  the  face  of  the  earth  a  cultivated  mind  which 
can  gravely  submit  such  a  suggestion  to  people 
who  can  read  and  think?  Nay,  rather,  is  there 
any  reality  beneath  this,  also? 

In  the  thing  itself,  surely  there  is  no  reality 
which  is  real  to  us.  But  the  spirit  is  that  of  all 
vicarious  sufferers  who  have  lived  and  died  for 
God.  It  is  the  spirit  of  the  fifty-third  chapter  of 
Isaiah.  It  is  the  spirit  of  all  prophets  who  have 
spoken  for  God,  all  evangelists  who  have  preached 
for  Him,  all  martyrs  who  have  died  for  Him.  It  is 
the  spirit  of  the  reformer  who  takes  the  sins  of 
the  world  upon  his  heart,  the  spirit  of  the  Saviour 
who  nails  them  to  His  cross,  making  a  show  of 
them  openly,  and  loosing  us  from  their  power 
by  His  blood.     Still  are  we  called  upon  to  bear 


ALL  SAINTS  115 

burdens  not  our  own,  endure  griefs  which  are 
not  ours,  shed  tears  for  the  pain  of  those  who 
are  less  than  kin  and  more  than  kind,  sweat  as 
it  were  in  our  agony  great  drops  of  blood  for 
the  redemption  of  ages  yet  unborn.  Life  grows 
from  more  to  more  through  death.  Only  upon 
some  cross  of  pain  or  woe  God's  Son  may  lie.  As 
you  go  back  to  do  again  your  simple  deeds  of 
love  and  mercy,  in  the  home,  in  the  sick-room,  in 
the  hospital  ward,  in  the  mean  street  amid  ugly, 
broken  lives,  as  you  go  back  to  lowly  service  of 
the  outcast  and  the  poor  for  whom  Jesus  died,  you 
draw  upon  yourselves,  as  lightning  conductors,  the 
demoniacal  fluid  of  current  Satanism,  and  share 
the  eternal  vicariousness  of  the  Christ  of  God. 
You  are  called  to  be  saints.  And  of  such  as  you 
is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. 


vn 

IDOLS  OF  THE  TRIBE 


VII 
IDOLS  OF  THE  TRIBE 

"Little  children,  guard  yourselves  from  idols." 

—I.  John  v.  21. 

**  This  comprehensive  warning  is  probably  the  lat- 
est voice  of  Scripture  " — according  to  the  judg- 
ment of  the  most  famous  Englishman  who  has  writ- 
ten upon  the  works  of  the  Apostle  John.  We  are  in 
the  habit  of  saying  that  the  heathen  in  his  blind- 
ness bows  down  to  wood  and  stone.  It  is  far 
from  certain  that  he  does  anything  of  the  kind; 
but,  however  that  may  be,  you  are  not  to  suppose 
that  by  "  idols "  John  meant  that  sort  of  an 
image.  One  of  the  best  of  the  popular  dictionaries 
defines  the  word  in  terms  which  marvellously  ex- 
pound John's  idea.  An  idol,  in  this  meaning,  is 
"  any  phantom  of  the  brain,  or  any  false  ap- 
pearance by  which  men  are  led  into  error  or 
prejudice  which  prevents  impartial  observation." 
It  would  be  difficult  to  add  to  this  without  spoil- 
ing it.  And  the  writer  whom  I  have  just  quoted 
shows  the  place  of  John's  warning  at  the  end  of 
his  great  epistle.  "  From  the  thought  of  Him 
that  is  true,  John  turns  almost  of  necessity  to  the 
thought  of  the  vain  shadows  which  usurp  His  place. 
In  them  the  world  asserted  its  power.    They  forced 

119 


120  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

themselves  into  notice  on  every  side  in  innumerable 
shapes,  and  tempted  believers  to  fall  away  from 
the  perfect  simplicity  of  faith.  One  sharp  warn- 
ing, therefore,  closes  the  epistle  of  which  the  main 
scope  has  been  to  deepen  the  fellowship  of  man 
with  God,  and  through  God  with  man." 

There  is  no  age  and  no  set  of  circumstances, 
there  is  no  life  so  illuminated  and  cultured,  in 
which  that  "  sharp  warning "  is  without  point. 
To  take  false  for  true  and  true  for  false  is  the 
fatality  which  pursues  the  footsteps  of  us  all,  in- 
quire we  never  so  wisely  in  a  perfect  way.  We 
are  human,  but  we  drop  the  substance  for  the 
shadow  more  readily  and  with  less  persuasion  than 
the  dog  in  ^sop's  fable.  Because  we  are  human 
we  lose  reality  through  exceeding  devotion  to  ap- 
pearance. We  always  need,  as  little  children,  to 
guard  ourselves  from  idols.  And  the  man  who 
can  do  it,  who  can  look  through  the  show  of  things 
to  things,  whose  piercing  glance  sees  through  form 
to  the  heart  that  beats  within,  and  to  the  living 
great  reality,  has  indeed  become  a  man  and  put 
away  childish  things.  He  is  a  seer,  and  you  ought 
to  trust  that  man.  For  him  the  veil  that  divides 
the  visible  from  the  invisible  is  wearing  thin  in 
places,  and  the  hidden  things  of  time  and  of  eter- 
nity are  about  to  be  revealed.  We  might  make 
an  effort  this  morning — though,  indeed,  it  is  the 
effort  of  a  lifetime — to  guard  ourselves  from  idols. 

In  that  great  book  which  revolutionised  all 
science  for  all  nations  and  all  time.  Bacon  begins 
by  recognising  the  prevalence  and  potency  of  idols, 


IDOLS  OF  THE  TRIBE  121 

by  discussing  their  nature,  and  by  uttering  a 
warning  against  them  only  less  Inspired  than  this 
"  latest  voice  of  Scripture."  There  are  four 
classes  of  idols,  he  says,  which  beset  men's  minds. 
To  these  for  the  sake  of  distinctions  he  assigns 
names.  He  calls  the  first,  "  idols  of  the  tribe  " ; 
the  second,  "  Idols  of  the  cave  " ;  the  third,  *'  idols 
of  the  market-place  " ;  and  the  last,  "  Idols  of  the 
theatre."  By  the  "  Idols  of  the  tribe  "  he  means 
those  errors  which  beset  us  as  members  of  the  human 
race  or  "  tribe  " ;  which  have  their  foundation  in 
human  nature  Itself ;  not  the  deception  to  which  the 
individual  Is  peculiarly  liable  through  some  personal 
quality  of  weakness  or  strength,  but  those  to  which 
human  nature  in  general  is  prone.  These  are  the 
idols  of  the  tribe.  The  "  idols  of  the  cave  "  are 
the  tendencies  to  error  of  the  Individual  man.  For 
every  one,  says  Bacon,  has  a  cave  or  den  of  his 
own  which  refracts  and  discolours  the  light  of 
nature.  In  our  day  we  speak  freely  of  the  "  per- 
sonal equation."  We  say  easily,  "  you  must  take 
into  account  the  personal  equation."  That  equa- 
tion inclines  the  individual  to  the  idols  of  the  cave. 
Then  there  are  the  "  idols  of  the  market-place," 
delusions  and  deceptions  formed  by  the  Intercourse 
of  man  with  man,  false  opinions  generated  In  the 
crowd  and  kept  alive  by  the  power  of  words  which 
we  believe  to  be  our  servants,  but  which  are  really 
despots  of  the  soul.  And  lastly  he  speaks  of  the 
*'  idols  of  the  theatre,"  by  which  he  means  false 
and  foolish  philosophies  and  theories ;  and  he  calls 
them  Idols  of  the  theatre  because,  to  his  mind. 


122  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

they  seem  mere  stage-plays,  representing  unreal 
worlds  In  unreal  ways.  And  against  all  these 
Bacon  takes  up  the  Apostolic  warning,  "  Guard 
yourselves  from  idols." 

I  have  long  had  the  desire  to  preach  on  this 
great  theme.  I  have  been  restrained  by  the  abid- 
ing fear  of  incompleteness.  A  man  might  lecture 
to  a  class  of  students  morning  by  morning  for  a 
year,  and  fill  a  volume  with  his  moralising.  But 
any  attempt  to  treat  a  subject  so  vast  and  so 
suggestive  as  this  in  the  ordinary  routine  of  pulpit 
work  seems  assured  of  failure  from  the  first.  One 
fears  the  scorn  of  thoughtful  persons  for  a  dis- 
cussion necessarily  so  inadequate.  Yet  one  is  grate- 
ful for  Mr.  Chesterton's  view  that,  "  if  a  thing 
is  worth  doing  at  all,  it  is  worth  doing  badly,'* 
and  so  takes  courage  to  make  the  attempt.  On 
future  Sunday  mornings  we  may  study  the  idols 
of  the  cave  and  the  idols  of  the  market-place; 
perhaps,  also,  the  idols  of  the  theatre.  To-day, 
Guard  yourselves  against  the  idols  of  the  tribe ! 

The  simplest  way  will  be  to  put  the  teaching  in 
the  form  of  direct  exhortation,  and  to  choose  illus- 
trations showing  its  necessity  and  wisdom.  First, 
then,  guard  yourselves  against  the  tendency  of 
human  nature  to  believe  that  a  thing  is  right  be- 
cause you  would  like  it  to  be  right. 

No  error  of  human  nature  is  more  widespread 
or  deep-seated  than  this.  None  is  more  fruitful 
of  misconduct  and  sorrow.  Every  man  who  thinks 
at  all  knows  that  this  is  true.  Every  prophet 
has  wept  over  it.     "  The  heart  is  deceitful  above 


IDOLS  OF  THE  TRIBE  123 

all  things,  and  it  is  desperately  sick,"  said  Jere- 
miah ;  and  in  no  sphere  of  activity  does  it  prove 
its  quality  of  deceitfulness  more  conspicuously 
than  in  self-deception.  And  a  modern  prophet, 
in  sheer  weight  of  intellect  the  equal  of  Jeremiah 
and  in  spirit  scarcely  his  inferior,  has  commented : 
"  Worse  than  being  fooled  of  others  is  to  fool 
oneself,"  while  he  exclaims  in  anger  and  pity 
blended : 

Oh,  purblind  race  of  miserable  men, 
How  many  among  us  at  this  very  hour 
Do  forge  a  life-long  trouble  for  ourselves. 
By  taking  true  for  false,  and  false  for  true  ! 

The  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things — when  in- 
terests clash  with  ideals  and  prejudice  with  prin- 
ciples. What  we  want  to  think  right  we  can  think 
right.  Carlyle  used  to  say  that  the  population 
of  the  British  Islands  was  so  many  millions — 
mostly  fools.  The  proportion  here,  of  course, 
would  be  slightly  different.  But  I  have  never  yet 
met  a  man  who  was  such  a  fool  that  he  could  not 
find  arguments  of  some  kind  or  other  in  favour  of 
any  course,  however  stupid  or  foolish  or  base,  which 
he  wished  to  take.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  I  have 
never  yet  met  the  man  who  was  clever  enough 
to  sit  down  and  succinctly  explain  to  himself  or 
me  how  some  other  man  had  succeeded  in  persuad- 
ing himself  that  his  amazing  and  bewildering 
crookedness  or  unscrupulousness  could  be  justified 
in  his  own  eyes.  Yet  men  do  persuade  themselves 
that  a  course  of  conduct  is  right  which,  for  other 
men,  in  dry  light,  in  cold  reason,  they  would  de- 


IM  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

nounce  with  all  the  rhetoric  of  righteous  passion. 
"  That  is  an  amazing  sermon,"  we  said  to  each 
other,  one  day;  and  we  proceeded  to  characterise 
it  not  unkindly,  but  in  a  pointed  sentence.  And 
an  old  man,  kind,  sweet-natured,  who  was  with  us, 
said  gravely :  "  I  am  sure  it  never  presented  itself 
to  his  mind  in  that  way."  No ;  I  am  quite  sure 
it  never  did.  And  that  illustration  only  touches 
the  sphere  of  the  intellectual.  You  may  say  it  as 
truly  in  the  world  of  morals.  A  man  involves 
himself  in  tortuous  diplomacy,  in  stealthy  intrigue, 
in  shady  finance,  in  ways  of  abominable  dishonour. 
But  you  may  be  sure  that  "  it  never  presented  itself 
to  his  mind  in  that  way."  He  has  found  a  hun- 
dred reasons  for  every  downward  step  that  he  has 
taken,  every  one  valid  in  his  own  eyes,  yet  every 
one  such  as,  urged  on  behalf  of  somebody  else, 
he  would  find  contemptible.  Little  children, — for 
here  we  may  all  sincerely  say,  "  I  am  a  cliild  in 
these  things," — guard  yourselves  from  the  idols 
of  the  tribe. 

Let  us  see:  Richard  Arkwright  invented  a  ma- 
chine for  spinning  cotton.  James  Watt  brought 
out  his  steam  engine.  England,  says  the  historian, 
was  now  ready  to  begin  her  great  work  of  weaving 
cotton  for  the  world.  But  where  was  the  cotton 
to  come  from?  As  it  grew,  the  seeds  clung  too 
tenaciously  to  the  fibre,  and  the  work  of  separating 
them  was  slow  and  costly.  In  a  log-hut  in  Georgia, 
Ell  Whitney  produced  his  machine  for  doing  this 
work  with  a  hundred  hands  all  flying  together  and 
obeying  the  single  mind.    Napoleon  sold  Louisiana 


IDOLS  OF  THE  TRIBE  125 

to  the  United  States.  The  soil  was  there  to  grow 
cotton,  the  machinery  was  ready  to  utihse  it  when 
grown,  labour  was  needed  to  cultivate  it.  Where 
was  the  labour  to  be  found?  Slavery,  at  that  time, 
in  the  view  of  the  Southern  States,  was  an  evil 
thing.  It  was  a  wrong  thrust  upon  them  by 
England.  It  was  difficult,  under  the  circum- 
stances, to  get  rid  of  it,  but  it  was  not  to  be 
defended.  Slave-owners  were  content  to  discuss 
plans  for  its  cessation.  The  clergy  preached 
against  it.  Hopeful  souls  looked  forward  to  the 
glad  day  of  the  release  of  captives  and  open  ways 
to  them  that  were  bound.  But  they  reckoned  with- 
out Arkwright,  Whitney,  and  the  Napoleonic 
wars  !  Abundant  labour  now  would  bring  streams 
of  gold,  a  Mississippi  of  wealth,  to  those  broad 
southern  lands.  Ease,  wealth,  luxury,  the  for- 
tunes of  millions,  were  dangled  before  the  eyes  of 
the  Southern  States,  and  the  price  was  the  negro's 
blood  and  sweat,  the  price  was  chains  and  slavery. 
The  false  prophet  of  the  new  and  hateful  order 
rose  to  the  occasion.  Calhoun  taught  the  people 
of  the  South  that  slavery  was  good  for  the  slave. 
It  was  a  benign,  civilising  agency.  The  African 
attained  to  a  measure  of  intelligence  in  slavery 
impossible  to  him  in  freedom.  To  him,  visibly, 
it  was  a  blessing  to  be  enslaved.  Heaven  had  ap- 
pointed slavery  for  the  advantage  of  both  races. 
Opposition  to  a  labour  ordinance  made  in  heaven 
was  flat  blasphemy.  Abolition  was  infidelity. 
Then  the  pulpit  took  up  the  wondrous  tale. 
Slavery  was  divinely  commended  in  the  Old  Testa- 


126  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

ment.  Ham  was  to  be  the  servant  of  his  brethren ; 
therefore,  the  children  of  Ham  forever  were  to  be 
the  property  of  white  men.  The  slave  who  escaped 
from  slavery  was  guilty  of  the  vilest  form  of  theft. 
He  had  not  run  away  with  himself,  he  had  stolen 
property  which  God  gave  to  his  master.*  It  waited 
for  Emerson  to  thunder  forth : 

Pay  ransom  to  the  owner, 

And  fill  up  the  bag  to  the  brim  ! 
Who  is  the  owner  ?    The  slave  is  owner, 

And  always  was— pay  him  ! 

But  meanwhile,  belief  in  the  righteousness  of  sla- 
very became  a  fanaticism  and  a  madness.  And  even 
to-day,  forty  years  after  the  close  of  the  war 
in  the  course  of  which  the  fetters  fell  from  the 
negro's  limbs,  I  have  talked  in  Southern  States 
with  some  of  the  sweetest  and  most  beautiful- 
minded  men  and  women  on  earth,  who  believe  with 
all  their  hearts  that  God  had  truly  appointed 
the  slave  unto  slavery  for  a  certain  time,  but  that 
they  impiously  insisted  upon  the  continuance  of  a 
Divine  institution  long  after,  in  the  Providence  of 
God,  they  should  have  permitted  it  to  come  to 
an  end.  Slavery  was  not  wrong.  Their  wrong 
was  that  they  did  not  recognise  that  it  had  served 
God's  purpose,  and  must  now  pass  away ! 

Did  the  South  find  out  first  that  God  meant  the 
negro  to  be  a  slave  "  with  no  rights  that  a  white 
man  was  bound  to  respect,"  and  that  it  was  lawful, 

*  Abridged  from  the  admirable  chapters  in  Mackenzie's 
"America." 


IDOLS  OF  THE  TRIBE  127 

if  a  slave  would  not  stand  still  to  be  flogged,  to 
shoot  him  as  he  ran,  and  later  on,  discover  that, 
greatly  to  their  surprise,  his  labour  was  profitable 
to  the  white  man?  By  no  means.  Slavery  was 
profitable ;  therefore  slavery  was  right !  You  do 
not  believe  that  men,  honest  men,  good  men,  could 
so  deceive  themselves?  Then  you  know  simply 
nothing  at  all  of  the  workings  of  the  human  heart. 
You  know  nothing  of  the  possibilities  of  your  own 
nature  and  nothing  of  the  human  nature  round 
you.  And  you,  more  than  all  other,  stand  in  need 
of  the  warning.  Guard  yourself  against  the  idols 
of  the  tribe,  against  the  common  tendency  of  our 
human  nature  to  believe  that  a  thing  is  right  be- 
cause we  should  like  it  to  be  right.  Guard  your- 
selves from  idols,  notably  from  this  awful  and  de- 
basing tendency  of  our  common  human  nature  to 
believe  that  a  thing  is  right  because  it  pays  us  in 
money  or  ease  or  the  gratification  of  passion  to 
believe  it.  In  a  word,  refuse  to  believe  that  you 
can  change  the  everlasting  laws  of  God  and  of  His 
righteousness  by  word-juggling,  however  acute; 
refuse  to  believe  that  omnipotence  will  obliterate 
the  eternal  difference  between  right  and  wrong  be- 
cause you  succeed  in  impressing  sophistry  to  rein- 
force your  sin. 

Now  we  must  turn  to  a  different  set  of  consid- 
erations, still  putting  it  all,  for  the  sake  of  clear- 
ness, in  the  form  of  definite  exhortation.  Guard 
yourselves  against  the  tendency  of  human  nature 
to  accept  the  easy  because  it  is  easy  and  to  reject 
the  difficult  because  it  is  difficult.    Bacon's  phras- 


128  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

ing  is  admirable,  though  difficult  to  follow  when 
you  hear  it  only  once.  "  By  far  the  greatest 
hindrance  and  aberration  of  the  human  under- 
standing proceeds  from  the  dulness,  incompetence, 
and  deceptions  of  the  senses ;  in  that  things  which 
strike  the  sense  outweigh  things  which  do  not 
immediately  strike  it,  though  they  be  more  im- 
portant. Hence  it  is  that  speculation  commonly 
ceases  where  sight  ceases ;  insomuch  that  of  things 
invisible  there  is  little  or  no  observation.  Hence 
all  the  working  of  the  spirits  enclosed  in  tangible 
bodies  lies  hid  and  unobserved  in  men." 

I  wish  it  was  in  my  power  to  bring  out  all  the 
meaning  of  this  subtle  passage,  with  illustrations 
and  proofs  from  the  world  around  us.  Intellectual 
thoroughness  is  difficult  to  us  all.  Not  because  we 
are  more  foolish  than  our  neighbours,  but  because 
we  are  like  our  neighbours,  because  we  are  what 
we  are,  because  we  are  men  and  not  gods,  by  the 
very  course  and  constitution  of  the  mind  that  we 
possess,  except  for  the  rare  souls  whom  we  call 
men  of  genius,  resolute  thinking  is  an  effort,  and  a 
great  and  toilsome  effort.  To  sit  quite  still  and 
think  out  an  abstract  problem ;  to  bend  all  the 
faculties  of  the  mind  upon  it;  to  forbid  the 
thought  to  stray  from  the  straight  course  of  the 
deduction ;  from  start  to  finish  to  keep  right  on ; 
to  see  invisible  things  by  the  mind's  eye  as  though 
they  had  form  and  body,  and  to  trace  a  clear  line 
of  progress  through  them — this  is  a  very  great 
undertaking  indeed,  which  calls  for  strength,  calm, 
courage,  and  a  high  degree  of  training.     What 


IDOLS  OF  THE  TRIBE  129 

then?  Why,  we  accept  the  easy  explanation  of 
things  because  it  is  easy,  the  superficial  because  it 
is  superficial.  Yet  the  spirit  never  does  lie  upon  the 
surface.  The  real  things  are  the  inner  things  and 
the  deep  things ;  and  for  these  we  must  dig  and  toil. 
This  is  the  explanation  of  much  cheap  Agnosti- 
cism in  our  day — I  do  not  say  of  all  the  doubts 
which  beset  the  souls  of  men.  There  is  earnest 
doubt,  tragic  doubt,  loss  of  faith  bringing  grief 
and  bitterness.  Of  that  let  no  man  speak  disre- 
spectfully. But  you  know  very  well  that  there 
is  a  very  cheap  and  very  foolish  kind  of  Agnosti- 
cism which  thinks  it  quite  smart  to  be  able  to  say, 
*'  I  don't  know."  But  anybody  can  say  "  I  don't 
know."  There  is  nothing  clever  in  it.  The  char- 
acteristic of  a  fool  is  that  he  does  not  know.  And 
no  really  capable  man  satisfies  himself,  in  the  com- 
mon things  of  life,  with  the  "  I  don't  know  "  atti- 
tude which  so  many  people  think  the  hallmark  of 
culture  in  things  of  the  soul.  Your  boy  comes 
from  college  to  the  university,  and  begins  to  realise 
how  little  he  knows,  though  he  stands  within  sight 
of  new  continents,  new  worlds,  of  knowledge.  If 
he  has  thdn  to  say,  "  I  don't  know,"  he  sets  his 
teeth  as  he  goes  on  to  add,  "  but  I  will  know."  He 
enters  upon  his  work  as,  let  us  say,  a  medical 
student.  Within  the  first  few  months  he  sees  as  he 
never  saw  before  how  fearfully  and  wonderfully 
this  human  frame  of  ours  is  built.  Is  he  going  to 
remain  forever  under  the  imputation  of  ignorance, 
accept  without  demur  the  old-time  scoff  at  the 
medical  profession,  that  the  art  of  medicine  con- 


ISO  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

sists  of  pouring  drugs  of  which  he  knows  Httle  into 
a  body  of  which  he  knows  less  ?  Not  he !  He  may 
say,  "  I  don't  know  " ;  but  he  is  quick  with  his 
assertion,  "  but  I  am  going  to  know  " !  It  is  only 
when  it  comes  to  the  religion  of  heroes,  the  faith 
that  has  made  and  kept  men  great,  that  he  thinks 
it  clever  to  dismiss  it  with  a  sniggering  "  I  don't 
know." 

I  have  had  sufficient  proofs  of  this.  Young 
men  and  women  have  read  cheap  trash,  and  have 
taken  up  my  challenge  to  read  any  one  or  two 
of  the  really  valuable  books  which  have  shown  it 
up  for  the  drivel  that  it  is.  And  they  have  quickly 
informed  me  that  they  really  could  not  master 
such  "  abstruse  "  reasoning,  or  could  not  "  digest 
such  unpalatable  food " !  Books  which  seem  to 
me  as  pellucid  as  sunshine,  as  fascinating  as  a 
novel !  Poor  things,  I  am  sorry  for  them.  What 
seems  to  be  demanded  is  that  the  deepest  specula- 
tions which  can  occupy  the  human  mind,  questions 
higher  than  heaven  and  deeper  than  hell,  problems 
of  human  sin  and  suffering,  of  the  mind  of  the 
Creator  and  the  meaning  of  the  Cross,  of  God's 
love  and  the  destiny  of  the  race,  should  be  capable 
of  expression  in  a  few  sentences  of  current  speech, 
or  at  most  in  a  few  pages  of  slap-dash  journalese. 
It  is  not  possible.  It  is  not  reasonable  to  expect 
it.  But  average  human  nature  demands  it,  and 
turns  away  from  substance  to  shadow,  from  real- 
ity to  appearance,  because  substance  and  reality 
are  deep  and  difficult  to  come  at,  while  shadow 
and  appearance  are  to  everybody's  hand.      Dr. 


IDOLS  OF  THE  TRIBE  131 

John  Watson's  word  is  true :  "  Inability  on  occa- 
sion to  cope  with  the  grandeur  of  the  Gospel  is 
not  an  unredeemed  calamity,  nor  is  it  always  a 
pledge  of  a  preacher's  power  that  he  can  handle 
a  high  theme  easily."  No ;  but  it  is  an  unre- 
deemed calamity  that  men  and  women  should  not 
guard  themselves  against  the  idols  of  the  tribe, 
should  not  bear  in  mind  that  the  easy,  because  it 
is  easy,  may  be  only  vain  shadow,  the  truth  of 
God  lie  very  deep. 

And  yet  I  would  not  have  you  go  away  with 
the  idea  that  religious  truth  is  a  thing  occult, 
mysterious,  past  the  understanding  of  plain  men. 
To  say  that  would  be  to  deny  the  best  teaching 
of  Holy  Writ.  The  wise  may  still  lose  it  through 
excess  of  wisdom,  while  God  speaks  to  simple  souls. 
It  is  not  culture  which  is  in  question,  but  conse- 
cration. Jesus  stood  up  in  the  midst  of  the  feast 
and  taught ;  and  the  people  marvelled,  saying, 
"  How  knoweth  this  man  letters,  having  never 
learned?"  Jesus,  therefore,  answered  them,  and 
said :  "  My  teaching  is  not  mine,  but  His  that  sent 
me.  If  any  man  willeth  to  do  His  will  he  shall  know 
of  the  teaching,  whether  it  be  of  God."  Intellec- 
tual sincerity  is  the  point.  Moral  fervour  is  the 
point.  It  is  thoroughness  of  mind  and  soul  which 
is  in  question,  and  that  is  much.  You  can  express 
this  is  simple  words,  the  beginning  of  it  in  simple 
words;  but  its  height  and  depth  and  length  and 
breadth  call  for  the  eloquence  of  men  and  angels. 
The  way  to  know  what  is  right  is  to  do  what  is 
right.      Opinions    follow   life,    not   life    opinions. 


132  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

Begin  to  do  the  elementary  Tightness  which  is 
nearest  to  you,  and  which  nobody  ever  doubted,  or 
could  doubt,  was  right.  Before  you  are  master 
in  that  art  the  next  step  in  rightness  will  be  clear 
to  you.  And  so  through  the  long  day  until  your 
shadow  lengthens  toward  the  night. 

But  this,  as  you  perceive,  is  a  vastly  different 
thing  from  accepting  superficial  solutions  of 
things,  and  turning  away  from  truths  which  lie 
in  the  heart  of  God.  That  breeds  intellectual 
ineptitude  and  spiritual  death. 

Will  you,  then,  carry  home  with  you  these  two 
applications  of  Bacon's  aphorisms  as  lit  up  by 
"  the  latest  voice  of  Scripture  " :  Guard  yourselves 
from  believing  that  a  thing  is  right  because  you 
would  like  it  to  be  right.  Guard  yourselves  from 
accepting  easy  falsity  because  it  is  easy,  and  re- 
jecting profound  truth  because  it  is  profound.  As 
little  children,  guard  yourselves  from  the  idols  of 
the  tribe. 


VIII 

IDOLS  OF  THE  CAVE 


vin 

IDOLS  OF  THE  CAVE 

"Little  children,  guard  yourselves  from  idols." 

—I.  John  v.  21. 

How  is  a  man  to  be  resolute  for  the  truth  as  he 
conceives  it,  earnest  in  contending  for  the  faith 
he  holds,  and  utterly  loyal  to  principle,  yet  at  the 
same  time  generous  in  his  thought  of  those  who 
differ  from  him,  not  tolerant,  for  tolerance  is  often 
an  intolerable  thing,  but  charitable  and  catholic- 
hearted?  This  is  an  acute  question  in  every-day 
morality.  It  is  a  problem  for  us  all.  We  are 
between  Scylla  and  Charybdis.  Few  of  us  escape. 
If  we  steer  clear  of  one  we  are  wrecked  upon  the 
other.  With  tremendous  earnestness  of  purpose 
we  have  usually  to  accept  a  narrow  outlook,  a 
harsh  disregard  of  other  m.en's  claims,  and  an 
overbearing  manner,  while  we  have  come  to  think 
it  certain  that  a  person  of  kind  and  genial  spirit, 
gracious  manners  and  fine  tact  can  never  manifest 
great  robustness  of  opinions  and  character. 

The  acceptance  of  this  working  theory  of  per- 
sonalities has  become  almost  a  law  with  us.     We 
say,  "  Everybody  has  the  defects  of  his  qualities." 
We  admit  that  a  persecuting  spirit  is  the  defect 
135 


136  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

of  moral  fervour,  and  spineless  acquiescence  in 
conventional  ill-doing  the  defect  of  universal  sym- 
pathies. And  we  leave  it  there,  thankful  for  the 
qualities  and  not  making  too  much  of  the  defects. 
Perhaps  this  is  all  right.  It  serves  indifferently 
well  to  carry  us  through  life.  It  is  not  ideal.  It 
is  second  best.  It  is  an  easy  adaptation  of  action 
to  possibility.  We  let  it  pass  for  the  best  attain- 
able in  such  a  world  as  this. 

Yet  it  is  a  fair  question  whether  we  ought  to 
admit  to  ourselves  the  immortality  of  mediocrity. 
It  is  a  fair  question  whether  we  ought  to  admit 
that  superb  fidelity  to  principle  without  intoler- 
ance, and  generous  catholicity  without  flabbiness 
and  latitudinarian  indifference,  are  forever  and 
forever  impossible  to  men.  According  to  Matthew 
Arnold,  no  mean  judge  of  such  matters,  the 
Apostle  Paul  was  an  unforgettable  proof  to  the 
contrary.  "  Never,  surely,"  says  Arnold  of  the 
Apostle,  "  did  such  a  controversialist,  such  a  mas- 
ter of  sarcasm  and  invective,  commend  with  such 
manifest  sincerity  and  such  persuasive  emotion  the 
qualities  of  meekness  and  gentleness.  Never, 
surely,  did  a  worker  who  took  with  such  energy 
his  own  line,  and  who  was  so  born  to  preponderate 
and  predominate  in  whatever  line  he  took,  insist 
so  often  and  so  admirably  that  the  lines  of  other 
workers  were  just  as  good  as  his  own."  And  if  it 
has  to  be  admitted  that  Paul  himself  did  not  attain 
to  flawless  perfection  in  the  practice  of  these 
heroic  virtues,  that  is  only  to  say  that  he  was 
human.     The  ideal  remains,  and  it  is  nobler  than 


IDOLS  OF  THE  CAVE  137 

surrender  to  the  "  inevitable "  defects  of  one's 
qualities. 

But  the  question  "  how  "  remains.  How  shall 
we  strive  after  inflexible  fidelity  to  principle  bal- 
anced and  sweetened  by  apostolic  charity.''  One 
cannot  say  all  in  a  sermon ;  one  cannot  say  much 
in  many  sermons.  And  this  morning  I  suggest 
to  you  one  single  point  of  departure.  As  little 
children,  guard  yourselves  from  idols,  and  notably 
from  the  Idols  of  the  Cave ! 

We  saw  last  Sunday  morning  that  it  was  useless 
for  us  to  suppose  that  images  of  wood  and  stone 
were  meant  by  the  word  "  idol "  in  our  text.  We 
found  that  a  dictionary  meaning  of  idol  curiously 
expounded  John's  warning :  "  Any  phantom  of  the 
brain,  or  any  false  appearance  by  which  men  are 
led  into  error  or  prejudice  which  prevents  impar- 
tial observation."  We  quoted  Bacon's  account  of 
the  four  classes  of  idols :  namely,  "  Idols  of  the 
Tribe,"  "  Idols  of  the  Cave,"  "  Idols  of  the  Mar- 
ket-place," and  "  Idols  of  the  Theatre."  To-day 
we  are  concerned  with  the  second  class  of  these. 

The  origin  and  nature  of  the  idols  of  the  cave 
are  marked  off  by  Bacon  in  a  few  happy  phrases. 
"  For  every  one  has  a  cave  or  den  of  his  own 
which  refracts  and  discolours  the  light  of  nature ; 
owing  either  to  his  own  individual  and  peculiar 
characteristics,  or  to  his  education  and  conversa- 
tion with  others ;  or  to  the  reading  of  books,  and 
the  authority  of  those  whom  he  esteems  and  ad- 
mires ;  or  to  the  differences  of  impressions,  accord- 
ingly as  they  take  place  in  a  mind  preoccupied 


138  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

and  disposed,  or  in  a  mind  indifferent  and  open, 
or  the  like.  So  that  the  spirit  of  man  (according 
as  it  is  meted  out  to  different  individuals)  is,  in 
fact,  a  thing  variable  and  full  of  perturbation, 
and  governed  as  it  were  by  chance." 

That  is  to  say,  for  our  present  purpose,  you 
are  to  guard  yourselves  from  supposing  that  these 
idols  of  your  cave  are  the  lords  of  the  whole  earth. 
You  are  not  to  suppose  that  your  views,  merely 
because  they  seem  clear  to  you,  are  the  measure 
of  light  for  all  mankind.  You  are  to  bear  in  mind 
that  truth,  principle,  duty,  and  the  facts  of  things 
present  themselves  to  you  in  a  certain  light,  in  a 
light  refracted  and  discoloured  by  your  own  cave, 
and  that  truth,  principle,  duty,  and  the  facts  of 
things  are  seen  by  your  neighbour  in  a  light  quite 
different  because  the  light  of  nature  has  been  re- 
fracted and  discoloured  for  him  by  the  strange 
cave  in  which  he  lives.  The  lesson  is  an  old  one; 
the  task  of  learning  it  is  new  every  day.  We  may 
go  over  some  of  Bacon's  divisions  for  the  sake 
of  elucidation  and  emphasis.  If  we  are  to  guard 
ourselves  from  the  idols  of  the  cave  we  must  re- 
member how  the  light  of  nature  is  refracted  and 
discoloured  by  a  man's  own  individual  and  peculiar 
characteristics. 

It  may  be  that  there  are  many  things  absolute 
in  this  universe.  It  may  be.  It  is  certain  that 
we  do  not  possess  the  faculties  to  appreciate  them 
with  absolute  justness  and  nicety.  For  us,  being 
what  we  are,  few  things  are  absolute  and  most 
things  are  relative.     Early  in  life  we  think  all 


IDOLS  OF  THE  CAVE  139 

great  things  and  many  minor  things  absolute.  We 
learn  better.  People  who  have  suffered  great 
physical  pain  through  much  of  their  life  know 
that  pain  is  a  relative  tiling.  It  is  relative  to 
circumstance  and  condition.  What  is  torture  at 
one  time  is  merely  inconvenience  at  another.  Mod- 
esty  is  a  relative  thing.  It  is  relative  to  the  race, 
to  the  age,  to  the  climate,  to  the  country,  as  well 
as  to  the  individual  and  to  all  the  circumstances 
which  may  vary  for  each  individual  within  this 
immeasurably  wide  generalisation.  An  argument  is 
always  a  relative  thing.  It  is  relative  to  the  per- 
son to  whom  it  is  addressed.  If  a  man  wants  you 
to  supply  him  with  an  argument  in  favour  of  any- 
thing, from  flat-earthism  to  the  Christian  reli- 
gion, you  must  consider  what  sort  of  an  argument 
he  wants  and  what  sort  of  argument  would  be  any 
good  to  him  if  he  had  it!  Truth  itself,  however 
absolute  and  regal  in  its  own  proper  essence,  as  it 
comes  to  us  and  as  we  are  able  to  accept  it,  loses 
somewhat  of  its  stainless,  awful  purity,  refracted 
and  discoloured  amid  the  shadows  of  our  cave.  I 
know  that  all  these  are  commonplaces,  worn  thread- 
bare with  age.     But  have  you  learnt  them  yet.'' 

We  are  only  just  beginning  to  learn  the  very 
alphabet  of  them.  Few  of  us  can  spell  words  of 
two  syllables.  Wherever  questions  of  churches, 
creeds,  denominations  arise  we  have  yet  to  learn 
the  value  of  Carlyle's  advice:  pass  a  Reform  Bill 
in  our  own  breasts,  and  cut  down  the  prejudices 
and  passions  of  our  own  hearts.  We  have  con- 
tended for  Church  government  and  the  forms  of  it, 


140  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

believing  or  professing  to  believe  that  there  was 
one  type  of  New  Testament  Church,  and  that  that 
type  must  be  observed  through  all  ages  as  the  un- 
changing model  for  all  nations.  People  used  to 
believe  that.  The  arguments  for  episcopacy  talked 
about  its  "  divine  origin."  The  arguments  for 
Congregationalism  talked  about  its  "  Scriptural 
authority."  And  all  the  while  it  was  plain  to  any- 
body who  would  come  out  of  his  little  cave  and 
read  the  New  Testament  under  the  broad  blue  of 
the  smiling  heavens,  that  the  Church  of  the  New 
Testament  was  Presbyterian  in  Jerusalem,  Episco- 
palian in  Crete,  and  Congregational  in  Corinth. 
A  form  of  government  is  relative  to  the  persons  to 
be  governed.  A  form  of  Church  government  is 
relative  to  the  persons  who  compose  the  Church. 

Denominations  stand  for  temperamental  tend- 
encies. Not  one  man  in  a  thousand  through  all 
the  centuries  first  argues  out  the  points  of  differ- 
ence that  separate  Church  from  Church,  and  then 
joins  the  one  to  which  the  balance  of  argument 
points.  He  may  begin  the  argument  after  he  is 
in  and  wants  to  defend  his  position  with  reason. 
For  the  vast  majority  of  us,  the  sort  of  person 
we  are,  the  kind  of  emotion,  aspiration,  tempera- 
ment, training  which  make  me  "  Me "  and  you 
"  You,"  inclines  us  to  one  Church  or  another. 
We  are  Baptists ;  but  we  are  not  what  we  are, 
persons  professing  certain  principles  and  profess- 
ing them  in  a  certain  way,  because  we  are  Baptists. 
On  the  contrary,  we  are  Baptists  because  of  the 
sort  of  people  we  are.     And  so  were  our  fathers 


IDOLS  OF  THE  CAVE  141 

before  us.  Historically,  from  before  a  time  when 
this  continent  saw  us,  we  are  a  determined,  turbu- 
lent, unsubduable  people.  We  are  a  stiff-necked 
lot,  disinclined  to  bow  our  heads  to  kings  and 
bishops  until  those  stiff  necks  are  stretched  by 
ropes  and  those  proud  heads  laid  low  upon  the 
scaffold.  We  have  made  so  much  of  the  inner 
authority  of  the  Spirit  that  we  have  had  only 
laughter  to  spare  for  outer  authority,  for  its 
crowns  tinsel-gilt  and  its  many  legions.  Axe  and 
dungeon  have  invariably  left  us  unconvinced. 
Whether  we  reasoned  it  out  or  whether  we  only 
felt  it,  scarcely  knowing  that  we  felt  it,  the  one 
undying  passion  of  our  souls  has  been  Liberty; 
and  we  have  known,  though  we  could  not  tell 
how  we  came  by  the  knowledge,  that  God  Himself 
could  not  tear  the  love  of  liberty  from  our  souls 
while  we  were  men  and  He  was  God.  And  such  as 
our  forefathers  were,  mutatis  mutandis,  we  are 
still.  And  that  is  why  we  are  Baptists.  That  is 
our  cave.  And  I  do  not  for  a  moment  doubt  that 
my  neighbour  on  my  right,  who  believes  more  than 
I  do,  and  my  neighbour  on  my  left,  who  believes 
less,  could  both  of  them  make  out  for  themselves 
and  for  their  ancestry  a  case  as  honourable  in  their 
eyes.  That  is  their  cave.  We  need  not  ask  them 
both  to  come  into  our  cave.  We  want  no  such 
poor  and  stunted  view  of  Church  unity.  Neither 
need  we  demand  that  all  caves  be  broken  up  in 
order  that  we  may  all  live  beneath  the  arching 
heavens.  Trees  of  the  forest,  grass  of  the  fields, 
and  flowers  on  the  mountain  side  flourish  so;  but 


142  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

we  are  men  and  we  need  our  caves.  The  essential 
thing  is  for  us  to  remember  that  we  do  Hve  in 
caves ;  refuse  to  suppose  that  the  Hght  re- 
fracted and  discoloured  there  is  the  pure,  uncon- 
taminated  light  of  nature,  and  doom  the  rest  of 
the  race  to  perdition  because  the  light  which  they 
enjoy  is  discoloured  differently  for  them.  Little 
children,  do  not  make  relativities  into  finalities 
and  absolutes.     Guard  yourselves  from  idols. 

Bacon  distinguishes  between  education  and  con- 
versation with  others,  on  the  one  hand,  and,  on  the 
other,  the  reading  of  books  and  the  authority  of 
those  whom  we  admire  and  esteem.  We  may  in- 
clude them  in  one  view  and  repeat  the  warning 
to  ourselves.  Next  after  temperament  itself,  these 
make  our  cave.     These  make  our  world. 

No  thoughtful  person  has  failed  to  make  the 
observation  times  without  number  in  the  course  of 
a  busy  life  as  new  situations  have  brought  him 
into  changed  relations  with  his  fellows,  "  But  this 
is  another  world !  "  To  be  sure  it  is.  A  decorous, 
orderly,  conventional  circle  represents  a  new  planet 
to  the  man  who,  in  robust  independence  of  spirit, 
has  lived,  without  vice  or  actual  wrong-doing,  in 
Bohemia.  A  young  man  who  has  ringed  his  soul 
round  with  fire  and  steel,  with  the  steel,  let  us  say, 
of  Emerson,  and  the  fires  of  Byron,  Shelley,  Burns, 
Lowell,  finds  himself  amongst  pious  people  who 
discover  a  special  reverence  in  pronouncing  God 
"  Gawd,"  or  amongst  those  who  shrink  from  the 
discussion  of  realities  by  persons  not  styled  "  rev- 
erend "  and  think  Scripture  out  of  church  indeli- 


IDOLS  OF  THE  CAVE  143 

cate,  or  amongst  people  in  the  old  world  to  whom 
the  name  of  the  monarch  is  sacrosanct  and  "  God 
save  the  King  "  the  divinest  note  of  mortal  song — 
and  these  different  caves  are  to  him  new  worlds ; 
their  idols  are  more  wonderful  and  less  respectable 
than  Mumbo-Jumbo ;  while  he  to  them  is  as  start- 
ling as  a  savage  beast  from  its  lair  or  the  wild  man 
of  Borneo  himself.  The  same  sort  of  thing  hap- 
pens over  and  over  again,  and  each  one  of  us, 
living  his  life  over  a  wide  circumference,  comes  into 
fresh  world  after  world  and  sees  daily  more  clearly 
how  numerous  and  how  powerful  are  the  idols  of 
the  cave. 

Bacon's  next  point  is  that  of  the  difference  of 
impressions  made  on  different  minds  according  as 
they  come  to  an  occupied  or  an  unoccupied  one, 
whether  they  come  upon  one  open  to  receive  or  to 
a  mind  already  possessed  by  preconceptions  and 
dispositions.  For  if  the  mind  is  already  pos- 
sessed by  settled  beliefs  and  convictions  before  the 
new  light  strikes  it,  obviously  it  will  be  refracted 
and  discoloured.  But  this  is  very  difficult.  What 
civilised  or  uncivilised  person  is  in  possession  of  a 
blank  mind.''  How  can  a  mind  be  blank  and  yet 
be  a  mind  at  all.?  That  which  makes  it  a  mind 
gives  it  predispositions  and  prejudices.  And  who 
is  there  strong  enough,  possessed  of  such  self- 
control  and  power  of  detachment,  that  he  can 
brush  aside  all  these  preoccupations  with  a  wave  of 
the  hand  and  bring  to  bear  a  wholly  emancipated 
mind.''  Only  the  very  greatest  souls  can  attain 
to  any  large  measure  of  such  self-mastery. 


144  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

The  fuller  your  life,  the  more  reason  there  is 
for  you  to  be  on  your  guard.  Tepid  people  may 
not  be  so  amenable  to  idols  of  the  cave.  Laodi- 
ceans  are  not  likely  to  entertain  strong  prejudices 
for  or  against  anything  or  anybody.  But  you 
have  opinions  and  a  will.  You  have  a  mind.  You 
have  principles,  convictions,  purposes.  The  blood 
runs  red  in  your  veins.  Not  for  you  the  insipidi- 
ties and  insincerities  of  people  who  are  just  as 
sympathetic  with  Judas  Iscariot  as  with  the 
Apostle  John,  and  are  indifferent  to  the  claims  of 
heaven  or  hell  because  they  have  friends  in  both 
places.  For  you,  then,  prejudice  is  easy.  And  a 
person  or  a  principle,  an  idea  or  an  idealist,  com- 
ing to  you  fresh,  has  first  a  dead  weight  to  move. 
To  do  away  with  your  settled  convictions  so  as 
to  make  room  for  new  impressions  would  be  impos- 
sible, and  very  wrong  if  it  were  not  impossible. 
But  to  recognise  what  I  have  called  the  relativities 
of  life,  as  against  a  belief  in  finalities  and  abso- 
lutes, is  not  impossible.  To  lay  strong  hands  upon 
yourself  and  compel  yourself  to  give  heed  to  the 
light  as  it  enters  another  man's  cave,  admitting 
that  it  may  be  refracted  and  discoloured  as  it 
comes  to  your  own,  is  an  exercise  in  grace  and  a 
training  in  wisdom  and  charity. 

Some  time  ago  I  found  myself  involved  in  a 
violent  altercation  as  to  whether  "  cave "  or 
"  den  "  were  the  better  word  to  express  Bacon's 
meaning.  Bacon  wrote  in  Latin.  I  had  con- 
sistently used  the  word  "  cave  "  to  represent  his 
purpose.      It    was    contended    against    me    that 


IDOLS  OF  THE  CAVE  145 

"  den  "  only  was  meant.  I  demanded  in  surprise 
the  difference  between  a  cave  and  a  den.  My 
ignorance  was  enlightened.  A  cave  is  a  place 
where  a  man  may  live.  A  den  is  a  hole  or  corner 
into  which  he  retires  and  shuts  himself  up  with 
his  thoughts,  his  tempers,  and  his  prejudices.  The 
distinction  never  occurred  to  Bacon.  But  it  is 
admirably  to  the  point.  We  do  need  to  guard, 
even  the  kindest  and  nicest  amongst  us,  against 
the  practice  of  deliberately  shutting  ourselves  up 
within  ourselves  and  closing  the  door  with  a  bang. 
If  Diogenes  lives  in  a  tub,  and  can  ask  nothing 
more  of  his  fellow-man  than  to  stand  out  of  his 
sunshine,  at  night  he  will  go  about  the  city  with 
a  lantern  looking  for  an  honest  man — and  he  will 
not  find  him !  Diogenes  could  not  find  an  honest 
man  with  a  lantern,  nor  with  the  strongest  electric 
searchlight  that  ever  swept  land  or  sea.  Diogenes 
would  not  know  an  honest  man  when  he  saw  one. 
In  your  den,  if  you  lurk  there  by  yourself,  in  its 
gloomy  recesses,  you  will  find  uncharity ;  you  will 
find  spite;  you  will  find  jealousy — oh,  always  you 
will  find  jealousy;  envy,  hatred,  malice,  and  all 
bitterness  of  the  soul  you  will  find  there.  Not  idols 
only  will  be  there.  Grinning  apes  and  tempting 
devils  you  will  find  there.  And  as  you  look  into 
the  concave  and  convex  mirrors  which  you  have 
hung  round  your  den,  the  apes  and  demons  will 
seem  to  bear  a  weird  resemblance  to  yourself. 
Oh,  beware,  not  merely  of  the  idols ;  beware  of 
the  den ! 

We  have  not  time  to  discuss  the  idols  of  the 


146  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

cave  further.  It  remains  to  ask,  If  it  is  true  to 
experience  and  fact  that  the  Hght  of  nature  is 
discoloured  for  us  in  these  ways  and  in  so  many 
other  ways,  what  becomes  of  the  doctrine  of  con- 
science? What  is  conscience?  Is  it  not  the  voice 
of  God  in  the  soul  of  man?  Is  it  not  an  infallible 
guide?  And  if  not,  are  we  not  adrift  upon  a 
shoreless  sea,  with  rotting  sails,  without  rudder 
or  compass,  and  have  not  the  very  stars  of  heaven 
gone  out  in  the  blackness  of  the  night?  We  have 
only  to  understand  the  meaning  of  the  words  we 
use.  Distinguish  between  conscience  itself,  moral 
judgments,  and  moral  sentiments,  and  the  fears 
will  vanish.  By  conscience  we  mean  that  instinct 
of  nature  and  of  God  within  us  which  asserts  the 
eternal  difference  between  right  and  wrong;  de- 
clares that  this  difference  is  not  accidental,  nor 
temporary,  nor  relative,  but  is  the  one  final  and 
absolute  which  humanity  can  know;  and  insists 
that  there  is  an  imperious,  inexpugnable  ought — 
•we  ought  to  do  the  right  and  avoid  the  wrong. 
But  conscience  does  not  tell  us  and  cannot  tell  us 
what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong  in  given  circum- 
stances. This  is  a  judgment,  a  moral  judgment, 
which  must  be  formed  by  the  individual  and  which 
may  be  correct  or  incorrect.  This  can  be  trained, 
educated,  directed.  This  it  is  which  differs  with 
each  member  of  the  race,  which  varies  from  age 
to  age,  and  which  builds  the  walls  of  the  cave  where 
the  idols  are.  In  popular  language  we  talk  about 
our  conscience  telling  us  that  such  and  such  a 
thing  is  wrong.     The  meaning  is  clear,  but  the 


IDOLS  OF  THE  CAVE  147 

language  is  misleading.  Conscience  tells  you  that 
the  wrong  must  not  be  done;  it  is  your  judg- 
ment which  has  decided  that  this  particular  thing 
is  wrong.  Then  moral  sentiments  gather  around 
these  judgments,  pleasure  or  pain,  approbation  or 
remorse.  If  a  man  says,  "  I  have  lived  in  all 
good  conscience  unto  this  day,"  he  means  that  he 
has  sincerely  followed  the  right  and  true  accord- 
ing to  his  moral  judgments.  If  he  goes  on  to 
add  that  "  he  has  a  conscience  void  of  offence  to 
God  and  man,"  he  means  that  the  moral  sentiments 
of  peace  and  self -approval  have  followed  upon  the 
sincerity  with  which  he  has  acted  upon  his  judg- 
ments. You  must  labour,  not  to  educate  your 
conscience,  which  is  impossible,  but  to  educate  your 
whole  self,  intellect,  emotion,  desire,  so  that  when 
conscience  speaks  to  you  of  the  eternal  obligations 
of  right  your  judgments  may  be  sound  as  to  what 
is  the  right  you  have  to  do. 

And  in  this  process  of  self-education  we  shall 
find  the  answer  to  the  question  with  which  we 
started  out:  How  shall  a  man  be  resolute  for  the 
truth  as  he  conceives  it,  yet  generous  in  his  appre- 
ciation of  those  who  conceive  truth  in  a  vastly 
different  way.?  I  do  not  ask  you  to  be  less  reso- 
lute. I  do  not  want  you  to  hold  convictions  with 
a  looser  grip.  I  do  not  want  you  to  speak  in  a 
lower  key,  cool  the  fires  of  your  blood,  and  spend 
yourself  less  defiantly  in  defence  of  what  you  hold 
for  true.  No;  fight  on  ever  braver  and  stronger. 
But — know  better  what  you  are  fighting  for! 
Study  it  more  carefully.     Master  more  completely 


148  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

the  meaning  of  it,  the  basis  of  it,  the  implications  of 
it,  the  issues  of  it.  And  then  what  ?  Why,  as  you 
study  more,  read  more,  think  more,  see  more,  you 
will  come  to  know  how  many-sided  life  is,  what 
large  worlds  there  are  of  which  you  never  dreamed, 
how  big  our  Father's  house  is,  and  how  many  man- 
sions there  are  in  it!  If  you  take  short  views  of 
life  and  superficial  views,  you  will  be  pretty  confi- 
dent that  if  the  Pope  of  Rome  is  not  infallible  it 
is  a  mercy  for  the  world  that  you  are !  But  if  you 
read,  think,  look  round  you  and  above  you,  and 
learn  to  look  at  life  whole  so  as  to  have  right 
reason  on  your  side  when  you  battle  for  the  good 
and  true,  you  will  come  to  see  how  much  there  is 
to  be  said  on  the  other  side,  and  how  likely  it  is 
that  men  from  other  caves  are  following  the  light 
as  well  as  you.  You  will  not  be  less  true  to  the 
light  you  have,  because,  refracted  and  discoloured 
by  other  dens,  other  men  perceive  the  light  and 
whence  it  flows,  and  see  it  in  their  joy.  You  will 
exult  because  they,  like  you,  have  followed  as  much 
as  they  have  received  of  that  true  Light  which 
lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world. 
Wherefore,  guard  yourselves  from  the  idols  of  the 
cave. 


IX 
IDOLS  OF  THE  MARKET-PLACE 


IX 
IDOLS  OF  THE  MARKET-PLACE 

"Little  children,  guard  yourselves  from  idols." 

— I.  John  v.  21. 

Bacon  says  that  the  idols  of  the  market-place  are 
the  most  troublesome  of  all !  We  have  learned  that 
by  "  idols  "  the  Apostle  John  did  not  mean  images 
of  wood  and  stone.  His  view  is  expounded  in  the 
dictionary  meaning  of  "  idol  " — "  any  phantom  of 
the  brain,  or  any  false  appearance  by  which  men 
are  led  into  error  or  prejudice  which  prevents  im- 
partial observation."  These  phantoms  of  the 
brain,  these  false  appearances,  are  divided  by 
Bacon  into  four  classes — Idols  of  the  tribe,  by 
which  he  means  the  errors  to  which  we  are  liable 
as  members  of  the  human  race  or  tribe;  idols  of 
the  cave,  those  to  which  the  individual  character- 
istics of  each  person  expose  him;  idols  of  the 
market-place,  so  called  because  they  owe  their 
existence  to  the  intercourse  of  man  with  man,  and 
are  generated  by  the  crowd;  and  idols  of  the 
theatre,  false  and  foolish  theories  and  philosophies 
which  correspond  to  no  actual  fact  in  the  universe, 
but  describe  unreal  worlds  in  false  and  scenic 
fashion. 

Of  the  idols  of  the  market-place  Bacon  says  that 
151 


152  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

men  believe  their  reason  governs  words  when  all 
the  time  words  govern  their  reason.  He  says: 
"  Words  are  imposed  according  to  the  apprehen- 
sion of  the  vulgar,  and,  therefore,  the  ill  and  unfit 
choice  of  words  wonderfully  obstructs  the  under- 
standing. Definitions,  wherewith  in  some  things 
learned  men  are  wont  to  guard  and  defend  them- 
selves, by  no  means  set  the  matter  right.  But 
words  plainly  force  and  overrule  the  understand- 
ing, and  throw  all  into  confusion,  and  lead  men 
away  into  numberless  empty  controversies  and  idle 
fancies." 

Each  sentence  is  full  of  suggestion.  Here  is  a 
comprehensive  indictment,  and  we  may  follow  it 
point  by  point. 

You  are  to  guard  against  the  idols  of  the 
market-place  by  accustoming  yourselves  to  the 
thought  that  words  suffer  a  depreciation  of  value 
by  meanings  imposed  in  popular  use. 

This  is  repeating  Bacon's  first  division.  But  you 
have  observed  that  I  have  left  out  his  word  "  vul- 
gar," and  quietly  slipped  in  the  word  "  popular," 
And  you  know  why.  "  Vulgar  "  originally  meant 
"  general,"  "  universal."  As  a  verb,  the  idea  is 
to  "  divulge,"  "  spread  abroad,"  "  publish."  The 
vulgus  were  the  crowd,  the  multitude,  the  mass 
of  the  people.  So  we  used  to  speak  of  "  the  Scrip- 
tures in  the  vulgar  tongue,"  meaning  the  native 
language  of  the  people.  You  know  what  we  mean 
by  "  vulgar  "  now — ill-mannered,  objectionable, 
rude,  low  in  thought,  and  base  in  spirit.  Now 
observe  the  history  of  men  and  centuries  hidden 


IDOLS  OF  THE  MARKET-PLACE      153 

away  in  that  word  "  vulgar."  How  much  of  the 
meaning  which  the  word  bears  to-day  comes  from 
the  disdain  of  the  rich  and  the  educated  for  the 
poor?  How  much  of  it  is  true  to  the  facts  of 
life?  How  far  is  it  true  that  the  vulgus  are  the 
vulgar,  that  the  masses  have  been  loutish,  unre- 
fined, without  ideals  and  visions?  This  word  is 
red-veined  with  human  nature.  It  is  impossible 
for  us  always,  perhaps  it  is  impossible  for  us  at 
any  time  entirely,  to  get  back  the  depreciated  cur- 
rency of  popular  speech  to  its  face  value.  And  if 
we  can  do  no  other  than  accept  the  word  "  vulgar  " 
in  its  modern  meaning,  at  least  let  us  remember 
that  vulgarity  is  not  of  the  social  position  but  of 
the  soul;  not  of  the  income,  but  of  the  instincts 
which  rule  our  life.  Let  us  remember,  with  my 
favourite  hero.  Dr.  Stockmann,  that  "  the  sort 
of  vulgar  people  we  are  concerned  with  are  not 
found  in  the  lower  orders  only.  They  crawl  and 
swarm  all  round  us,  right  up  to  the  very  sum- 
mits of  society.  A  man  is  vulgar,  and  ignorant, 
and  undeveloped  when  he  thinks  the  thoughts  and 
speaks  the  opinions  of  his  official  superiors.  Men 
who  do  that  belong  always  to  the  mob." 

And  though  I  have  used  the  word  "  popular," 
that,  too,  is  at  the  present  moment  undergoing  a 
change.  For  it  used  to  mean  "  pertaining  to  the 
people  " ;  now  it  of tener  means  "  favourite  with 
the  people."  Suppose  a  preacher  were  to  say, 
**  the  great  business  of  my  life  is  to  be  a  popular 
preacher."  You  would  probably  understand  him 
to  mean  that  his  great  object  was  to  be  a  favourite 


154  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

with  the  crowd,  and  you  would  very  properly  con- 
demn him  as  a  sycophant,  a  time-server,  a  hireling, 
and  a  vain  one  at  that.  But  he  might  mean  that 
his  work  in  the  world  was  not  to  preach  to  the 
academy  and  the  university.  His  work  was  not 
to  discuss  the  Gospel  with  men  of  light  and  lead- 
ing in  the  nation.  His  work  was  to  appropriate 
the  results  of  research,  scholarship,  criticism  ac- 
cumulated by  the  learning  and  toil  of  others, 
master  their  meaning,  and  translate  the  best  into 
language  *'  understanded  of  the  people,"  ex- 
pounding the  highest  thought  of  his  time  in  direct 
and  lucid  speech  for  the  benefit  of  the  masses 
of  the  people.  That  would  not  be  the  work  of  a 
hireling.  It  would  be  for  a  man  to  sacrifice  social 
position  and  professional  distinction  in  order  to 
bring  the  Gospel  to  those  of  whom  it  was  said  that 
they  heard  the  Saviour  "  gladly." 

"  Criticism,"  a  word  which  I  have  just  used, 
may  be  such  another  "  idol."  The  meaning  im- 
posed by  the  apprehension  of  the  vulgar,  as  Bacon 
would  say,  the  meaning  it  bears  in  popular  use, 
we  should  put  it,  is  that  of  "  fault-finding,"  be- 
cause when  people  get  together  to  "  criticise  "  a 
person  they  generally  find  fault — and  plenty  of  it ! 
But  to  the  educated  person  who  uses  words  cor- 
rectly the  meaning  is  vastly  different.  "  Criti- 
cism "  is  appraisement,  is  judgment.  An  art 
critic  is  not  a  man  whose  business  it  is  to  find 
fault  with  pictures,  nor  a  literary  critic  a  man 
who  is  paid  to  find  fault  with  books.  These  men 
are  experts,  forming  an  opinion,  pronouncing  a 


IDOLS  OF  THE  MARKET-PLACE      155 

judgment.  Had  this  been  understood  we  should 
have  been  spared  many  an  ineffably  silly  discus- 
sion such  as  "  Ought  clergymen  to  criticise  the 
Bible?  "  People  discuss  whether  it  is  in  good  taste 
for  preachers  to  find  fault  with  the  Scriptures. 
They  do  not  see  that  the  work  of  ascertaining 
the  age,  the  authorship,  the  genuineness  of  docu- 
ments is  unrelated  to  the  spirit  of  fault-finding, 
and  may  be  undertaken  from  the  deepest  motives 
of  religion. 

Words  which  have  a  religious  significance  are, 
to  be  sure,  more  within  the  scope  of  a  Sunday 
morning  sermon  than  all  other.  Only,  get  this 
law  of  the  depreciation  of  intellectual  currency 
clearly  before  you,  and  it  will  save  you  from  many 
errors  for  the  remainder  of  your  days.  Words 
which  we  commonly  use  have  taken  on  a  later  and 
a  lower  meaning  in  the  course  of  such  common  use. 
*'  Knave,"  which  now  means  "  rascal,"  originally 
meant  "  boy."  Afterwards  it  was  used  for  a  serv- 
ing man.  And  the  degradation  of  the  word  attests 
the  fact  that  the  serving  man  was  commonly  re- 
garded by  his  aristocratic  master  as  a  rascal.  A 
villain  is  worse  than  a  knave ;  but  "  villa "  is 
*'  farm  " ;  a  "  villain  "  is  a  person  employed  about 
a  farm,  a  peasant.  Our  word  "  boor,"  a  clumsy, 
underbred  person,  is  the  word  "  Boer  "  with  which 
South  African  affairs  have  made  you  famihar, 
and  means  farmer.  Was  it  everywhere  understood 
that  pro-Boers  were  people  who  took  the  side  of  a 
handful  of  farmers  against  an  Empire.'' 

Guard  yourselves  from  the  idols  of  the  market- 


156  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

place  in  the  sphere  of  religion.  What  is  religion? 
Here  we  are  actually  redeeming  the  word  from 
lower  uses.  We  are  witnessing,  for  once,  the  eman- 
cipation of  a  word.  There  was  a  time  when  a  re- 
ligious person  was  one  bound  under  monastic  vows  ; 
when  a  religious  house  meant  a  convent  or  a  mon- 
astery ;  when  to  enter  into  religion  was  not  to  yield 
the  heart  to  the  Purifier  of  hearts  and  the  will  to 
the  Will  that  governs  the  universe,  but  was  to 
enter  some  monkish  or  cloistered  order.  Re-ligo  is 
to  bind.  Religion  is  that  which  binds  man  to  God, 
and  binding  man  to  Him  binds  man  to  man  the 
wide  world  over  in  bonds  of  everlasting  brother- 
hood.    Never  let  it  mean  less  than  that  to  you. 

What  is  "  the  Word  of  God  "?  People  use  the 
phrase  to  describe  the  Bible.  The  Bible  is  not 
the  Word  of  God.  If  you  will  use  the  word  Bible 
in  place  of  the  "  Word  "  or  the  "  Word  of  the 
Lord,"  you  will  see  what  confusion  of  thought  is 
here.  Open  the  first  chapter  of  Jeremiah :  "  Now 
the  Bible  came  unto  me,  saying,  Jeremiah,  what 
seest  thou.'^  "  Absurd;  the  Bible  was  not  in  exist- 
ence. Open  the  first  chapter  of  John's  Gospel: 
"  In  the  beginning  was  the  Bible,  and  the  Bible  was 
with  God  and  the  Bible  was  God  " !  It  makes  non- 
sense. The  "  Word  "  is  the  living  thought  and 
eternal  purpose  of  our  God.  The  Bible  is  a  col- 
lection of  Books,  a  literature,  indeed,  growing  out 
of  the  revelation  of  the  Word  of  God  to  inspired 
men.  It  contains  not  the  record,  but  a  record  of 
revelation,  the  most  priceless,  the  most  immortal. 

"  Inspired  men  " — ^but  what  is  Inspiration  ?   In 


IDOLS  OF  THE  MARKET-PLACE      157 

"  the  meaning  Imposed  according  to  the  apprehen- 
sion of  the  vulgar  "  it  is  a  process  whereby  God 
secures  miraculous  freedom  from  mistakes  to  those 
to  whom  the  Word  Is  revealed.  "  Do  you  believe 
in  the  inspiration  of  the  Bible  writers?"  Yes; 
with  all  my  heart  and  with  all  my  head  I  do ! 
"  Then  you  believe  that  all  they  said  and  did  was 
infallibly  safeguarded  from  error  ?  "  I  should  be 
ashamed  to  believe  anything  so  foolish.  Inspira- 
tion is  breathing  in.  In  religious  use,  it  is  the 
breathing  In  of  God's  Spirit.  In  actual  experience 
it  is  the  excitement,  the  reinforcement,  and  the  sus- 
tenance of  our  spirits  by  the  flowing  in  of  the 
Spirit  of  God. 

All  this  is  very  simple.  Yet  it  is  not  difficult 
to  see  how,  in  Bacon's  further  division,  words 
"  plainly  force  and  overrule  the  understanding." 
We  could  express  it  in  stralghter,  stronger  words. 
We  allow  ourselves  to  be  bullied  by  words.  We  go 
through  life  almost  frightened  out  of  our  own 
seven  senses  by  words.  "  I  am  ashamed  to  think 
how  we  capitulate  to  names  and  badges,"  says 
Emerson;  but  the  way  In  which  we  capitulate  to 
high-sounding  words  constitutes  a  more  shameful 
surrender  of  our  self-respect.  Have  you  forgot- 
ten a  once  popular  novel  in  which  figures 
a  pious  and  pompous  old  gentleman  who  can 
find  a  Greek  or  Latin  word  five  syllables  long  to 
label  off  every  original  thought  In  its  proper  cate- 
gory of  ancient  heresies.?  No  suggestion  can  be 
made  touching  upon  the  sphere  of  religion  with- 
out this  prolix  defender  of  the  faith  denouncing 


158  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

it  as  Neo-pelagianism  or  anthropomorphism  or 
something  as  interesting,  greatly  to  the  encour- 
agement of  free  discussion,  as  you  can  well  be- 
lieve. In  common  life  we  have  allowed  ourselves  to 
be  bullied  in  just  that  way. 

How  many  of  you  used  to  turn  white  at  the  word 
"  evolution  "?  Not  so  many  years  have  passed 
since  an  ex-president  of  the  Baptist  Union  of 
Great  Britain  told  from  the  Baptist  Union  plat- 
form a  story  about  a  godly  old  woman  who  com- 
plained that  her  minister  was  always  talking  about 
some  evil  lotion,  and  she  didn't  want  any  lotion  at 
all ;  she  wanted  to  hear  about  Jesus !  Did  the 
members  of  the  Union  Assembly,  who  laughed  and 
cheered  and  piously  assented  to  the  superior  claims 
of  Jesus  over  an  "  evil  lotion,"  know  that  evolution 
is  unfolding,  the  unfolding  of  the  complex  from 
the  simple,  the  ascent  through  orderly,  successive 
stages?  Of  course  they  knew.  And  you  know,  if 
you  will  but  use  your  knowledge,  that  never  a 
mother  amongst  you  has  watched  the  slow  awaken- 
ing of  baby's  intelligence,  as  the  child  has  learned 
the  use  of  "  I "  and  "  me,"  without  finding  her 
heart  grow  more  tender  still  in  its  thankfulness 
over  this  process  of  evolution.  Why  should  you 
allow  yourself  to  be  bullied  by  a  word.^* 

We  have  allowed  the  word  "  rationalist "  to  be- 
come the  exclusive  property  of  men  who  doubt  or 
deny.  It  may  be  too  late  to  get  our  own  back 
again.  We  have  been  bullied  out  of  our  pos- 
sessions. But  we  are  rationalists !  I  would  have 
you  throw  scorn  on  the  notion  that  our  religion 


IDOLS  OF  THE  MARKET-PLACE      159 

has  no  reasonable  foundation ;  that  it  will  not 
abide  the  questioning  of  our  intellect;  that  it  can 
afford  no  satisfaction  to  the  aroused  and  trained 
minds  of  men.  Reason  is  not  infallible.  Reason 
is  not  all.  But  the  Autocrat  of  the  Breakfast 
Table  is  right,  and  we  ought  to  rejoice  in  it,  not 
deplore  it :  "  The  active  mind  of  the  century  is 
tending  more  and  more  to  two  poles,  Rome  and 
Reason,  the  sovereign  Church  or  the  free  soul, 
authority  or  personality,  God  in  us  or  God  in 
our  masters."  And  he  is  right  when  he  adds  that, 
"  though  a  man  may,  by  accident,  stand  half-way 
between  these  two  points,  he  must  look  one  way 
or  the  other."  There  let  us  take  our  manly  stand 
— ^by  the  side  of  reason,  and  refuse  to  be  bullied  by 
a  word ! 

These  idols  of  the  market-place,  according  to 
Bacon,  throw  all  into  confusion,  and  lead  men 
into  "  numberless  empty  controversies  and  idle 
fancies."  I  should  think  so !  When  Laban  and 
Jacob  were  reconciled,  after  a  hot  pursuit  and  a 
stormy  meeting,  they  set  up  a  heap  of  stones  as 
a  memorial  of  the  compact  of  peace  they  made  and 
the  oath  of  friendship  which  they  swore.  Laban 
called  that  mute  witness  Jegar-sahadutha ;  but 
Jacob  called  it  Galeed.  This  is  one  of  the  historic 
facts  which  have  helped  to  preserve  my  faith  in 
the  essential  sanity  of  human  nature, — the  fact 
that  they  did  not  immediately  fall  to  sword-play, 
they  and  all  that  were  with  them !  The  two  words 
mean  the  same  thing:  one  is  Hebrew,  the  other 
Aramaic.      But   I   am   sure  that   we   could   have 


160  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

fought  like  Kilkenny  cats  over  such  a  profound 
and  solemn  distinction.  Christians  have  burnt 
each  other,  fully  persuaded  that  all  the  apostles 
would  have  done  as  they  did,  for  less.  That  a 
man  should  describe  a  fact,  a  truth,  an  aspiration, 
or  an  experience,  in  his  o^vn  language,  and  an- 
other man  describe  a  fact  he  has  seen,  a  truth  he 
has  reahsed,  an  aspiration  which  his  soul  has  ut- 
tered, or  an  experience  which  God  has  given  him, 
in  his  language,  is  as  good  a  reason  for  persecu- 
tion and  for  long  and  bloody  wars  as  almost  any 
other  in  human  history.  And  we  still  hate  one 
another  for  the  love  of  God,  and  all  for  differences 
like  those  between  Jegar-sahadutha  and  Galeed. 
According  to  the  Athanasian  Creed,  which  Atha- 
nasius  never  wrote,  not  perhaps  according  to  the 
creed  as  it  was  originally  compiled,  but  accord- 
ing to  the  creed  as  it  is  repeated  in  the  English 
tongue,  a  man  will  without  doubt  perish  everlast- 
ingly unless  he  thinks  things  which  are  ever- 
lastingly unthinkable.  Yet  I  have  heard  that 
creed  discussed  between  a  reasonable-minded 
clergyman,  who  repeated  the  creed  whenever  his 
Church  commanded,  and  a  Baptist  to  whom,  as  it 
stands  in  English,  it  is  merely  silly,  and  for  my 
life  I  could  not  tell  the  difference  between  them! 
Dr.  Martineau  wrote :  "  A  way  out  of  the  Trini- 
tarian Controversy" ;  and  contended  that  Trini- 
tarians and  Unitarians  have  been  confused  by 
words ;  that  they  have  failed  to  understand  that 
the  object  of  faith  is  the  same  with  both;  that  the 
Unitarians  worship   the  Father   and   the   Trini- 


IDOLS  OF  THE  MARKET-PLACE      161 

tarians  the  Son,  but  the  Trinitarians  mean  by  the 
Son  precisely  what  the  Unitarians  mean  by  the 
Father,  and,  in  Martineau's  own  words,  "  He  who 
is  the  Son  in  one  creed  is  the  Father  in  the 
other." 

We  are  warned  to  begin  our  controversies  al- 
ways with  definitions,  and  told  that  if  we  define 
before  we  argue  the  argument  will  be  short.  But 
our  definitions  so  often  need  defining.  Our  lan- 
guage being  what  it  is,  the  product  of  many 
languages,  we  often  define  a  word  of  one  origin 
by  words  of  another  meaning  just  the  same  thing, 
without  in  the  least  explaining  what  the  thing 
is.  So  we  think  we  are  thinking  when  we  are  only 
using  words. 

This  is  important  from  the  point  of  practical 
morality.  It  is  more  important  on  the  ground  of 
Christian  charity.  We  ought  to  be  very  sure  that 
we  have  the  exact  meaning  of  one  who  differs  from 
us  when  we  start  to  controvert  his  view.  A  man 
writhes  under  a  sense  of  injustice  when  something 
he  never  meant  is  ascribed  to  him  because  the  words 
he  used  will  cover  that  meaning.  Whenever  in 
controversy  two  or  three  meanings  are  possible 
in  an  opponent's  words  we  instinctively  fasten 
upon  the  one  which  makes  him  ridiculous.  We  do 
not  mean  to  do  it.  It  is  our  nature  to.  Whereas 
we  ought  to  do  exactly  the  opposite.  We  ought 
to  assume  that  he  will  have  used  language  in  a 
way  which  is  best  for  his  case,  not  worst.  Per- 
haps this  is  too  much  to  expect  from  controver- 
sialists.   Is  it  too  much  to  expect  from  Christians? 


162  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

If  it  Is,  let  us  fall  back  upon  a  still  more  ele- 
mentary precept. 

We  ought  to  refuse  to  make  a  man  an  offender 
for  a  word.  We  ought  not  to  erect  words  into 
barriers,  if  in  our  hearts  we  know  that  the  spirit 
is  right.  "  Peace  on  earth  amongst  men  of  good 
will "  was  the  message  of  the  angels  when  Christ 
was  born.  Amongst  all  men  of  good  will,  men 
who  see  visions  and  dream  dreams  of  a  golden 
age,  who  look  forward  to  humanity  restored, 
righteousness  established  over  all  the  earth,  and 
God  glorified,  there  should  be  peace.  I  should  like 
to  see  a  spiritual  Freemasonry  established  amongst 
men  of  every  creed,  clime,  and  colour  who  are 
simply  trying  to  make  the  world  better  than  they 
found  it.  Let  that  be  the  test  of  membership,  and 
that  alone.  Is  this  man,  according  to  his  light, 
making  an  honest  try  to  leave  some  little  corner 
of  the  world  cleaner  and  sweeter  for  those  who 
shall  come  after  him?  Then  he  belongs  to  our 
Order,  and  he  is  sacred  in  our  eyes.  He  is  a 
brother  to  be  helped  on  the  way,  entitled  to  the 
hospitality  of  our  souls,  received  at  night  with 
the  salutation  of  peace,  dismissed  with  a  blessing 
in  the  morning.  Pass,  brother,  all  is  well;  thou, 
too,  hast  the  watchword  of  eternal  life ! 

Give  me  patience  while  I  make  one  other  direct 
and  kindly  plea.  Cease  to  build  yourself  on  words. 
Get  at  things.  Latitudinarians  and  Platitudi- 
narians may  be  agreeable  companions  for  an  hour, 
but  they  are  useless  for  long  journeys  and  bad 
weather.    Fine  words  butter  no  parsnips,  says  the 


IDOLS  OF  THE  MARKET-PLACE      163 

old  adage.  Get  at  facts.  Is  your  religion  real 
for  the  office,  the  shop,  the  exchange,  the  street, 
and  the  cafe  where  you  eat  your  lunch,  where 
nine  times  out  of  ten  materialism  and  mammonism 
hold  the  field  against  all  comers?  How  good  a 
man  dare  you  be?  Dare  you  live  as  Christ's  man 
amongst  men  who  despise  His  word?  And  you, 
in  a  smug  society,  whose  decorous  phrases  do  not 
half  conceal  its  deep  vulgarity  of  soul — dare  you, 
my  sister,  be  true  to  your  own  gracious  woman- 
hood, coming  as  an  original  spirit,  bringing  with 
you  the  breezes  that  blew  on  Olivet?  Have  you, 
men  and  women,  drawn  near  to  God  in  speechless, 
hopeful  prayer  and  consecration?  Then  your  re- 
ligion shall  abide,  through  all  chances  and  changes 
shall  abide.  On  a  lee  shore  and  in  the  teeth  of 
the  desperate  winter  gale  you  shall  hold  your  rud- 
der true,  ride  out  the  storm  bravely,  and  anchor 
at  last  in  the  haven  where  you  would  be.  Pro- 
fessions are  good ;  but  the  best  profession  is  a  self- 
denying  love.  Let  your  prayer  be  in  your  deed, 
and  before  the  long  day's  work  is  ended  you  shall 
nestle  as  a  tired  child  in  the  Father's  arms,  and 
be  safe  from  fear  of  evil.  "  Not  every  one  that 
saith  unto  Me,  Lord,  Lord,  shall  enter  into  the 
kingdom;  but  he  that  doeth  the  will  of  My 
Father." 


X 

IDOLS  OF  THE  THEATRE 


IDOLS  OF  THE  THEATRE 

"  Little  children,  guard  yourselves  from  idols." 

— I.  John  v.  21. 

We  have  come  to  the  last  of  Bacon's  four  classes 
of  idols,  and  to  the  last  sermon  of  the  series. 
You  remember  the  dictionary  definition  of  "  idol  " : 
"  any  phantom  of  the  brain,  or  any  false  appear- 
ance by  which  men  are  led  into  error  or  prejudice 
which  prevents  impartial  observation."  In  previ- 
ous sermons  we  have  discussed  "  Idols  of  the 
Tribe,"  "Idols  of  the  Cave,  and  "Idols  of  the 
Market-place."  "  Lastly,"  says  Bacon,  "  there 
are  idols  which  have  immigrated  into  men's  minds 
from  the  various  dogmas  of  philosophies,  and  also 
from  the  wrong  laws  of  demonstration.  These  I 
call  idols  of  the  theatre,  because,  in  my  judgment, 
all  the  received  systems  are  but  so  many  stage- 
plays,  representing  worlds  of  their  own  creation 
after  an  unreal  and  scenic  fashion." 

It  would  be  absurd  for  us  to  attempt  to  follow 
Bacon's  exposure  of  the  play-acting  philosophies 
which  occupied  the  stage  of  European  thought 
from  the  time  of  Aristotle  to  his  own.  Dead 
Egyptians,  drowned  on  the  seashore,  would  have 
more  life  in  them  to-day  than  these  systems  for  us. 

167 


168  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

But  his  wholesome  scorn  for  dream-spun  worlds, 
for  theories  of  life  which  represent  no  life  that 
ever  was  lived,  does  convey  a  suggestion  to  us.  A 
touch  of  healthy  contempt  for  cobwebs  would  do 
none  of  us  harm.  Cobwebs  are  unsightly  things. 
The  Mrs.  Poysers  of  this  world  do  well  to  be 
angry  with  them.  It  is  of  the  grace  of  God  if  they 
retain  sufficient  self-control  not  to  bang  the  brush 
about  the  ears  of  the  slatternly  creature  who  is 
responsible  for  them.  There  is  a  kind  of  intoler- 
ance which  Froude  finds  not  intolerable.  "  What," 
he  demands,  "  does  an  ascertained  imposture  de- 
serve except  to  be  trampled  on  and  danced  on  until 
the  very  geese  take  courage  and  dare  to  hiss  their 
derision  ?  "  To  be  sure,  the  man  who  sets  out  to 
break  idols  must  prepare  for  consequences.  The 
keepers  of  the  temple  will  begin  to  gather  stones. 
The  iconoclast  must  take  it  as  part  of  the  day's 
work.  He  must  look  and  laugh  at  all  that.  He 
will  have  his  reward.  If  the  iron  enters  into  his 
soul  it  will  make  him  strong. 

A  novel  of  our  day,  dealing  with  the  religious 
life  of  a  remote  Scottish  community,  admirably 
written,  with  a  mastery  of  local  colour,  has  for  its 
theme  the  world-old  problem  of  suffering  through 
voluntary  renunciation.  The  minister  is  made  the 
victim  of  a  false  charge.  The  real  wrong-doer  is 
the  father  of  the  woman  he  loves.  It  is  not  a 
criminal  charge.  No  penalty  would  fall  on  the 
father  if  the  blame  were  affixed  to  him.  There 
would  be  scandal,  but  no  more.  For  the  minister 
such  scandal  means  ruin.     He  accepts  responsi- 


IDOLS  OF  THE  THEATRE  169 

bility  for  an  offence  which  is  utterly  ahen  from  his 
nature,  which  he  is  morally  incapable  of  commit- 
ing.  He  does  this  to  save  the  father  of  the 
woman  who  is  dear  to  him.  He  has  to  give  up 
his  Church.  He  has  to  leave  the  ministry.  He 
quits  the  country.  His  life  is  blasted.  In  an- 
other land  he  tries  teaching,  for  which  he  is  un- 
fitted, and  finally  drifts  into  a  poor  little  book- 
shop. There  he  drags  out  a  miserable  existence; 
in  his  poverty  reflecting  that  they  once  called  him, 
"  the  star  of  the  north  "  !  He  dies  broken-hearted, 
the  shadow  never  lifted  from  his  name.  The 
woman  lives  her  life,  loveless  and  alone,  dies,  pos- 
sessing nothing  but  the  pathetic  memory  of  a 
blighted  aff'ection  for  a  man  who  left  the  country 
in  disgrace.  Great  harm  is  done  to  the  cause  of 
religion  in  that  little  place.  What  is  gained  by 
any  human  being?  Nothing,  absolutely  nothing. 
And  surely  nothing  in  this  world  can  make  it  right 
for  these  two  lives  to  be  wrecked  and  the  cause 
of  religion  shamed  in  order  that  a  comparatively 
minor  scandal  may  not  befall  an  old  sinner  who 
richly  deserves  much  more !  Neither  can  anything 
make  it  credible  that  the  woman  herself  would  wish 
the  man  to  renounce  her,  face  obloquy,  ruin,  and 
death  In  exile,  to  save  her  father  the  trivial  conse- 
quences of  his  wrong-doing.  Yet  in  the  story  it 
is  clearly  intended  that  we  should  admire  the  heroic 
spirit  of  self-renunciation  by  which  the  man  is 
impelled  to  his  mighty  sacrifice. 

Against  that  admiration  I  protest  as  a  gross 
perversion  of  the  ethical  sense.     Such  admiration 


170  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

is  only  possible  to  people  who  live  in  one  of  these 
unreal  worlds,  who  have  spun  cobwebs  round  their 
heads  and  hearts,  and  have  prostrated  themselves 
before  an  idol  of  the  theatre.  Resolved  into  its 
constituent  elements  the  theory  goes  back  to  the 
notion  that  suffering  is  good  in  itself  and  for  its 
own  sake,  and  that  there  is  something  virtuous  in 
taking  the  painful  of  two  possible  courses  simply 
because  it  is  painful.  Do  not  believe  it.  It  is  not 
a  reality.  God  does  not  grudge  you  your  happi- 
ness. If  you  can  be  good  without  suffering,  with- 
out mortification  and  renunciation,  so  much  the 
better.  God  does  not  want  you  to  find  pain  for 
pain's  sake.  Pain  is  to  be  bravely  borne  when  it 
cannot  be  avoided.  Suffering  is  to  be  accepted 
heroically  when  it  comes  in  the  way  of  duty.  A 
spiked  cross  and  a  hair  shirt,  and  a  "  whip  of  five 
cords,  each  with  five  knots,"  that  number  chosen, 
says  Pusey,  "  because  of  its  sacred  character,  re- 
minding me  of  the  five  wounds  of  our  Lord,"  may 
or  may  not  be  useful  for  the  wretched  people  who 
have  brooded  so  long  over  mechanical  purity  that 
their  minds  are  a  viper's  nest  of  unclean  thoughts. 
And  for  some  of  us,  longing  to  be  saints  yet 
agonising  with  temptation,  it  well  may  be  that  the 
sacrifice  of  a  darling  sin  is  like  cutting  off  the 
right  hand  or  plucking  out  the  right  eye.  But 
there  is  no  virtue  in  the  suffering  itself,  and  no 
bliss  added  to  the  joy  of  the  Eternal.  When 
the  Indian  fakir  sticks  a  hook  through  the  flesh 
of  his  back,  has  himself  suspended  from  the  ceil- 
ing, and  swings  round  like  an  old-fashioned  roast 


IDOLS  OF  THE  THEATRE  171 

before  the  kitchen  fire,  he  knows  no  better.  And 
when  the  pillar  saint  spends  thirty-three  years  on 
a  column  sixty-six  feet  high,  bowing  his  head,  and 
muttering  incantations  he  calls  prayers,  it  is  be- 
cause he  has  never  known  God. 

Behind  and  beneath  these  aberrations  of  piety 
I  have  admitted  *  that  a  noble  instinct  may  some- 
times be  found,  that  of  the  suppression  of  self  in 
longing  for  full  obedience  to  the  will  of  God.  If 
that  is  the  point,  then  it  is  lovely  and  of  good 
report.  But  you  know  that  such  is  not  always 
the  case.  Suffering  is  esteemed  good  in  itself. 
Tears  are  supposed  to  be  the  outward  and  visible 
sign  of  indwelling  piety ;  smiles  may  betoken  a 
worldly  frame  of  mind.  I  prefer  the  subtler  psy- 
chology of  a  novelist  whose  day  is  done :  "  Hypo- 
crites weep,  and  you  cannot  tell  their  tears  from 
the  tears  of  saints ;  but  no  really  bad  man  ever 
smiled  sweetly  yet."  Suffering  is  not  good  in 
itself:  keep  on  writing  that  down  in  the  tablets 
of  your  memory.  It  is  only  good  when  it  pro- 
duces good  fruit.  Do  not  be  afraid  of  your  hap- 
piness. Laugh  and  sing  and  make  music.  Take 
up  the  joy  of  life  with  both  hands,  and  fill  your 
heart  with  it.  Guard  yourselves  from  the  idols  of 
the  theatre,  from  the  morbid  belief  that  misery 
sanctifies  better  than  joy.  Who  is  it  that  tells 
of  "  The  glorious  gospel  of  the  blissful  God  " .'' 

Some  phrases  of  current  controversy  will  bring 
before  us  the  next  idols  of  the  theatre :  "  Religion 
is  only  properly  taught  when  it  is  taught  by  au- 
*  See  sermon  on  "  All  Saints,"  page  110. 


172  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

thorlty."  "  The  only  authority  which  can  prop- 
erly teach  religion  is  the  Church."  "  Reading  of 
Scripture  may  be  actually  harmful  when  the  au- 
thority of  the  Church  is  not  invoked  to  expound 
it."  And  there  are  many  more  of  the  same  sort. 
You  know  to  what  they  point.  These  phrases 
point  to  the  existence  of  a  mysterious  body  of  men 
possessed  of  supernatural  powers,  like  witches 
and  wizards  in  the  old  days.  They  have  re- 
ceived these  magical  powers  in  a  rite  of  super- 
natural significance  as  witches  and  wizards  re- 
ceived theirs  when  they  signed  the  compact 
with  Satan  in  their  blood.  This  magical  power, 
now  taking  the  form  of  ability  to  understand 
what  common  men  cannot  understand,  now  giv- 
ing the  right  to  call  the  kings  of  earth  to  heel 
like  a  pack  of  hounds,  and  now  to  tinkle  a 
little  bell  and  summon  God  to  appear  on  what 
they  call  an  altar,  now  conferring  the  right  to 
fumble  amongst  the  heart-strings  of  delicate  girl 
or  wedded  wife,  and  now  to  dragoon  the  consciences 
of  men,  hanging,  drowning,  roasting  them  when 
they  prove  recalcitrant  —  these  magical  powers 
have  distilled  into  the  souls  of  sacred  persons  and 
are  indestructible.  Age  by  age  this  close  cor- 
poration of  wonder-workers  has  preserved  its 
ranks  inviolate.  No  gross  sin  affects  the  magic. 
A  man  may  be  foul  with  moral  corruption,  odious, 
leprous  with  sin,  a  brute,  an  adulterer,  a  murderer ; 
but  that  makes  no  difference  to  the  magic.  He  can 
still  "  create  his  Creator,"  and  forgive  the  sins 
of  better  men  than  himself.     This  is  not  a  carica- 


IDOLS  OF  THE  THEATRE  173 

ture.  There  is  not  a  line  which  has  not  been 
justified  from  the  works  either  of  Anglo-Catholics 
or  Roman  Catholics.  And  on  the  whole  view  I  am 
inclined  to  regard  this  doctrine,  which,  expressed 
in  technical  terms,  is  that  of  a  visible  Church,  a 
sacrificing  priesthood,  and  an  apostolical  suc- 
cession, as  the  most  colossal  idol  of  the  theatre 
which  has  ever  dominated  and  abused  the  minds 
of  men. 

If  the  notion  of  apostolical  succession  were  still 
worth  arguing  amongst  healthy-minded  people,  if 
the  possibility  or  impossibility  of  the  magic  were 
waived  for  a  moment,  and  the  question  discussed 
as  one  of  fact :  "  Have  these  ill-tempered  and 
arrogant  persons  in  our  day  inherited  such  pow- 
ers by  direct  and  unbroken  succession  from  the 
Apostles  ? "  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  anything 
better  could  be  said  than  some  of  the  things 
Macaulay  has  said.  For  instance :  "  We  read  of 
sees  of  the  highest  dignity  openly  sold,  transferred 
backwards  and  forwards  by  popular  tumult,  be- 
stowed sometimes  by  a  profligate  woman  on  her 
paramour,  sometimes  by  a  warlike  baron  on  a  kins- 
man still  a  stripling.  We  read  of  bishops  of  ten 
years  old,  bishops  of  five  years  old,  of  many  popes 
who  were  mere  boys,  and  who  rivalled  the  frantic 
dissoluteness  of  Caligula."  And  again :  "  We 
are  at  a  loss  to  conceive  how  any  clergyman 
can  feel  confident  that  his  orders  have  come 
down  correctly.  Whether  he  be  really  a  suc- 
cessor of  the  Apostles  depends  on  an  immense 
number  of  such  contingencies  as  these:  whether, 


174  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

under  King  Ethelwolf ,  a  stupid  priest  might  not, 
while  baptising  several  scores  of  Danish  prisoners 
who  had  just  made  their  option  between  the  font 
and  the  gallows,  inadvertently  omit  to  perform  the 
rite  on  one  of  these  graceless  proselytes ;  whether  in 
the  seventh  century,  an  impostor,  who  had  never 
received  consecration,  might  not  have  passed  him- 
self off  as  a  bishop  on  a  rude  tribe  of  Scots; 
whether  a  lad  of  twelve  did  really,  by  a  ceremony 
huddled  over  when  he  was  too  drunk  to  know  what 
he  was  about,  convey  the  episcopal  character  to 
a  lad  of  ten." 

But  the  average  person  In  the  twentieth  century 
will  not  waste  his  time  upon  these  historical  conun- 
drums, which  only  become  vital  when  the  possi- 
bility of  the  magic  is  granted.  On  the  contrary, 
he  will  declare  with  the  historian  that  "  a  priest 
is  no  better  conjurer  than  a  layman,"  and  all 
Protestantism  is  in  that  protest.  This  world  of 
visible  Church,  miraculous  sacraments,  and  super- 
natural conveyance  of  esoteric  powers  is  an  unreal 
world,  a  dream  world,  a  world  of  cobwebs,  a  world 
of  fairy-tales  less  convincing  than  those  of  "  Peter 
Pan  " ;  these  doctrines,  in  Bacon's  words,  are  no 
more  than  stage-plays  representing  worlds  of  their 
own  creation  after  an  unreal  and  scenic  fashion. 
And  when  a  mediaeval  monk  steps  out  of  the  four- 
teenth century  into  the  twentieth,  or  stalks  sol- 
emnly into  the  arena  of  current  controversy,  and 
produces  the  rags  and  bones  with  which,  five  hun- 
dred years  ago,  he  used  to  perform  conjuring 
tricks  before  the  astonished  gaze  of  peasants  by 


IDOLS  OF  THE  THEATRE  175 

the  market  cross  or  in  a  village  inn,  it  should  be 
enough  to  answer  him,  "  Little  children,  guard 
yourselves  from  idols  !  " 

I  wish  it  were  possible  to  leave  it  there,  finding 
no  parallel  absurdity  for  common-sense  to  brush 
away  within  the  life  of  Protestantism.  But  that 
is  not  the  case.  We  have  enough  idolatry  of  our 
own.  I  will  not  single  out  specific  doctrines. 
Rather  I  would  have  you  see  that  this  great  world 
of  ours  in  which  we  make  theology  of  such  account, 
the  whole  round  of  our  life  which  concerns  itself 
so  terribly  with  beliefs  and  creeds,  is  an  unreal 
world,  a  cobweb,  like  the  rest. 

Think  of  the  tiny  volume  in  which  all  the  say- 
ings and  doings,  all  the  life  story  of  Jesus,  could 
be  written.  What  a  volume  it  would  be!  In- 
finitely precious — but  how  small!  Think  of  the 
ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand  ponderous  tomes 
of  theology  supposed  to  be  evolved  from  it — moun- 
tains of  divinity,  the  Matterhorn  piled  on  Mount 
Blanc,  until  you  sigh  for  Vesuvius !  Think  of  the 
simplicity  of  the  method  of  Jesus.  Contrast  it 
with  the  over-elaboration  of  the  creeds.  I  have 
heard  a  zealous  preacher  expound  the  "  Prodigal 
Son  "  from  a  text  in  "  The  Song  of  Songs,"  but 
that  is  elementary  compared  with  the  evolution  of 
the  Athanasian  Creed  from  the  Sermon  on  the 
Mount!  What  was  it  Jesus  came  to  do.?  How 
did  He  hope  to  do  it.^* 

He  came  to  make  us  good.  To  make  a  few 
more  good  men  and  good  women,  in  the  assurance 
that  each  one  would  make  more,  and  so  goodness 


176  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

would  grow  and  spread  as  long  as  the  world  en- 
dured— that  was  His  purpose.  And  His  method? 
He  called  God  "  Father  " ;  He  never  called  Him 
by  any  other  name.  He  thought  that  if  men  and 
women  could  be  brought  to  see  and  feel  that  they 
were  the  children  of  God,  could  be  brought  into 
filial,  loving  relations  with  their  Father,  no  more 
was  needed.  They  would  then  live  as  good  chil- 
dren should,  doing  the  things  which  were  well- 
pleasing  to  such  a  Father,  in  harmony  with  them- 
selves and  with  one  another.  That  is  all.  Do  you 
think  Jesus  would  have  valued  the  armour-plated 
creeds  with  which  His  followers  afterwards  at- 
tempted to  define  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.?  Nay, 
I  ask  you  another  question ;  I  ask  it  in  all  rever- 
ence and  beg  you  to  think  about  it:  do  you  think 
Jesus  would  have  understood  those  creeds  .f*  I  do 
not.  I  think  that  they  would  have  been  so  en- 
tirely alien  from  His  world,  a  world  where  lilies 
in  the  field  are  more  splendid  than  kings  in  their 
glory,  where  httle  children  are  of  the  kingdom 
of  heaven,  and  love  is  the  sole  test  of  discipleship, 
that  He  would  have  felt  them  as  something  hard, 
mechanical,  distressful,  something  that  jars  upon 
the  simplicity  and  loveliness  of  a  child's  relation 
with  the  Father-God.  Jesus  was  not  a  theologian. 
But  that  is  not  a  condemnation  of  Jesus.  And 
when  men  tell  us,  as  they  tell  us  now,  that  we 
must  not  hope  to  find  the  fully-developed  doctrines 
of  the  Incarnation,  the  Atonement,  and  justifica- 
tion by  faith  in  the  teaching  of  Jesus,  we  answer: 
"  That  may  be  so  much  the  worse  for  the  doc- 


IDOLS  OF  THE  THEATRE  177 

trines  in  question,  but  we  certainly  have  not  yet 
wandered  so  far  in  a  world  of  dreams  that  we  can 
be  persuaded  Jesus  did  not  preach  the  Gospel,  or 
that  it  has  waited  for  theology  to  repair  omissions 
in  the  Christianity  of  Christ." 

Let  us  understand  where  we  are.  Definitions 
and  deductions,  the  subtleties  of  moral  philosophy, 
and  the  cast-iron  logic  of  creeds,  are  supremely 
interesting.  I  agree  with  Mr.  Chesterton  that  the 
farther  removed  the  debate  is  from  practical  life 
the  more  wildly  exciting  it  becomes.  For  mag- 
nificent, vital  joy  of  conflict,  when  mind  strikes 
fire  from  clashing  mind,  and  the  spirit  is  stirred 
by  divine  passion,  give  us  a  grand,  fierce  argu- 
ment about  something  that  does  not  matter  two 
straws  to  anybody.  Such  discussions  are  immense. 
The  question  as  to  how  many  angels  can  dance  on 
the  point  of  a  needle  is  absorbing.  Jaded  persons 
in  search  of  a  new  thrill  may  turn  to  it  again  and 
again,  and  find  it  an  inexhaustible  resource. 
These  things  are  magnificent.  But  they  are  not 
religion. 

Unless  I  forgive  my  brother  his  trespasses 
against  me,  God  cannot  forgive  my  trespasses: 
that  is  religion.  Unless  I  attain  to  purity  of 
heart  I  cannot  see  God:  that  is  religion.  Unless 
I  approach  the  kingdom  of  heaven  with  the  mod- 
esty, the  teachableness,  the  sensitiveness  of  ideal 
childhood  I  cannot  enter  in:  that  is  religion. 
Unless  I  am  a  peace-maker  I  cannot  be  recog- 
nised as  a  child  of  God:  that  is  religion.  Unless 
I  am  merciful  I  do  not  see  how  I  can  hope  for 


178  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

mercy :  that  is  religion,  too.  Have  you  the  fruits 
of  the  Spirit?  The  fruits  of  the  Spirit  are  love, 
joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  kindness,  goodness, 
faithfulness,  meekness,  self-control.  This  is  reli- 
gion; all  the  rest  is  mere  idolatry.  Oh,  men  and 
women,  what  shadows  we  are  and  what  shadows 
we  pursue!  As  little  children,  guard  yourselves 
from  idols.  For  where  men  and  women  are  saved 
from  materialism,  selfishness,  and  vice;  where  the 
man  of  unclean  lips  sings  the  songs  of  the  re- 
deemed, and  he  of  corrupt  imaginings  enters  into 
the  joy  of  our  Lord;  where  the  peace  of  God  which 
passeth  all  understanding  keeps  the  tremulous 
heart  stayed  on  Him  in  quiet  trust,  and  the  chil- 
dren of  this  world  are  visibly  living  in  the  strength 
and  love  of  God,  there  Christ  is,  and  there  is  His 
kingdom,  and  His  power,  and  His  glory,  forever 
and  forever. 


XI 

THE  DAY  OF  SMALL  THINGS 

(A  sermon  for  Thanksgiving  Day) 


XI 

THE  DAY  OF  SMALL  THINGS 

(A  sermon  for  Thanks g'w'mg  Day) 

"  Who  hath  despised  the  day  of  small  things  ?" 

— Zechariah  rv.  10. 

Who  hath  despised  the  day  of  small  things?  The 
question  is  old.  The  answer  is  easy.  The  man 
who  has  eyes  to  see,  yet  remains  blind;  who  has 
ears  to  hear,  yet  is  deaf;  the  man  who  has  neither 
brains  to  ponder,  heart  to  feel,  nor  soul  to  project 
itself  into  the  invisible, — he  has  despised  the  day 
of  small  things.  In  one  word,  the  man  who  goes 
through  life  praying — by  his  actions,  of  course; 
man's  best  prayers  are  in  his  deeds — ^who  goes 
through  life  praying  in  good  Shakespearian 
phrases  that  the  world  will  write  him  down  an 
ass — he  has  despised  the  day  of  small  things.  But 
no  thinker  ever  did.  Carlyle  defined  genius  as  an 
infinite  capacity  for  taking  pains.  All  things 
taken  into  account,  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that 
a  worse  definition  of  genius  has  ever  been  given. 
Herbert  Spencer  is  right  when  he  says  that  pre- 
cisely the  contrary  is  true,  and  that  a  characteris- 
tic of  genius  is  that  it  does  easily  and  without 
much  effort  what  the  man  without  genius  can 
181 


182  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

scarcely  do  at  all.  Yet  genius  does  often  betray 
itself  by  infinite  capacity  for  taking  pains  over 
the  unspeakably  minute;  and  the  reverent  deter- 
mination of  the  man  of  science  to  know  "  the 
secret  of  the  weed's  poor  heart "  stands  as  an 
eternal  rebuke  to  the  flippant  idleness  which  de- 
spises the  day  of  small  things. 

Since  the  dawn  of  thinking  life  upon  this  earth 
the  starlit  spaces  of  the  night  have  moved  the 
wonder  and  the  worship  of  mankind.  When  primi- 
tive man  considered  the  heavens  which  were  the 
work  of  God's  hand,  the  moon  and  the  stars  which 
He  had  made,  his  soul  melted  within  him.  To-day 
the  brain  reels  in  contemplation  of  the  vast  forces 
and  fires,  suns  and  stellar  systems,  which  sweep 
into  the  ken  of  modern  astronomy.  And  yet  it 
is  literally  true  to  say  that  the  climax  of  marvel 
in  this  marvellous  hour  is  reached  when  we  con- 
sider the  world  on  world,  the  stars  and  systems, 
which  move  with  a  velocity  equal  to  that  of  the 
stars  in  their  courses  and  with  an  order  like  their 
own,  in  the  grain  of  dust  that  floats  in  the  sun- 
beam or  molecule  of  water  that  nestles  in  the  bosom 
of  a  dew-drop.  *'  Canst  thou  bind  the  sweet  in- 
fluence of  the  Pleiades  or  loosen  the  bands  of 
Orion.?"  was  the  question  of  the  ancient  poet; 
and  man  confessed  his  impotence.  Now  he  has 
turned  from  the  glories  above,  despairing  of  com- 
passing their  remoteness  even  by  his  imagination; 
and,  lo,  the  infinitesimally  small,  the  infinitely  tiny, 
the  atom  which  for  hundreds  of  years  has  defied 
analysis  or  further  division,  has  been  broken  up, 


THE  DAY  OF  SMALL  THINGS        183 

and  there  he  has  found,  not  merely  a  microcosm, 
a  world  in  little,  but  a  universe  which,  in  its  inex- 
pressible minuteness,  is  more  astounding  still. 
There — in  the  speck  which  eye  cannot  see,  which 
only  the  most  powerful  microscope  can  discern,  in 
the  atom  so  tiny  that  it  can  only  be  expressed 
by  the  symbols  of  mathematics,  not  less  than  in 
the  blue  vault  of  heaven  above  us,  we  have  watched 
"  the  Pleiades  rising  through  the  mellow  shade," 
or  looked  on  "  great  Orion  sloping  slowly  to  the 
west." 

Some  years  ago  a  writer  of  our  own  time  de- 
scribed in  popular  and  picturesque  phrases  the 
changes  brought  about  in  every  department  of 
human  life  by  what  he  calls  the  manufacture  of 
power,  and  he  discussed  with  great  vivacity  in  his 
book,  "  The  New  Epoch,"  developments  possible 
in  the  future.  He  knew  nothing  of  radium.  Yet 
he  saw  that  the  new  epoch  created  by  man's  power 
to  control  and  utilise  some  of  the  energies  of  the 
universe  had  barely  begun.  Now  the  man  of 
science  who  undertakes  to  explain  to  us  as  much 
of  the  mysteries  of  radium  as  he  himself  compre- 
hends allows  himself  to  dream  dreams  of  a  future 
whose  achievements  shall  make  the  conquests  of  the 
past  seem  slight  and  poor.  He  conceives  of  the 
Kberation  of  such  power,  now  imprisoned  in  mat- 
ter, as,  when  it  is  yoked  to  the  service  of  man, 
shall  effect  more  and  greater  changes  in  the  whole 
round  of  life  than  those  brought  about  by  steam 
and  electricity.  He  tells  us  that  "  the  greatest 
quantity  of  heat  energy  obtainable  by  chemical 


184  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

means  is  that  obtained  from  the  combustion  of 
hydrogen  in  oxygen.  The  total  heat  spontane- 
ously given  off  by  a  definite  weight  of  radium  would 
amount,  before  it  was  used  up,  to  thirty  thousand 
times  as  much  as  that  obtainable  by  burning  an 
equal  amount  of  hydrogen."  And  as  hydrogen 
is  four  times  as  productive  as  coal,  it  follows  that 
radium  is  one  hundred  and  twenty  thousand  times 
as  productive,  or,  to  be  definite,  that  a  pound  of 
radium  would  do  the  work  of  fifty  tons  of  coal. 
Last  year  it  was  stated  that  the  total  quantity 
of  radium  prepared  and  in  the  hands  of  experi- 
menters did  not  amount  to  more  than  sixty  grains. 
So  that  while  there  is  little  hope  of  the  material 
becoming  cheap  and  accessible,  yet  our  man  of 
science,  seeing  visions  and  dreaming  dreams  not 
less  remarkable  than  those  of  ancient  prophets, 
does  conceive  of  the  possibility  of  learning  from 
a  study  of  radium  how  to  set  at  liberty  the  enor- 
mous stores  of  energy  which  the  atoms  of  common 
substances  now  keep  locked  up  within  themselves. 
And  he  adds :  "  When  this  is  accomplished,  the 
human  race  will  be  able  to  obtain,  from  some  per- 
haps common  and  economical  material,  many  thou- 
sands of  times  the  power  we  get  at  present  out 
of  a  corresponding  weight  of  coal." 

Such  fresh  use  of  apparently  illimitable  power 
would,  as  you  can  see,  introduce  fresh  changes, 
correspondingly  important,  vast,  age-long,  into 
the  operations  and  potentialities  of  capital,  the 
distribution  of  population,  the  meaning  and 
purpose  of  democracy,  the  nature  of  education, 


THE  DAY  OF  SMALL  THINGS        185 

the  functions  of  government,  and  all  the  rela- 
tions of  man  to  man  the  wide  world  over.  Yet 
when  you  consider,  not  only  the  small  quantity 
of  radium  in  the  hands  of  the  men  of  science, 
but  remember  also  that  the  value  of  it  is  not 
in  itself  but  in  the  knowledge  it  brings,  the 
suggestions  it  makes,  the  discoveries  to  which  it 
leads,  when  you  consider  that  within  the  micro- 
scopic atom  of  radium  two  hundred  thousand  cor- 
puscles are  moving  in  orbits  like  the  stars,  at  a 
speed  thirty  thousand  times  greater  than  that  of 
a  flying  bullet,  with  a  striking  energy,  weight  for 
weight,  nine  hundred  million  times  greater,  and 
when  you  suffer  yourself  once  more  to  dream  of 
the  possibilities  of  world-conquest  hidden  here,  you 
ask  once  again  with  an  awe  the  Hebrew  prophet 
never  knew,  "  Who  hath  despised  the  day  of  small 
things  ?  "    And  the  answer  we  know ! 

Nearer  to  hand,  and  within  the  knowledge  of 
everybody  who  reads  anything  at  all,  is  the  story 
of  man's  conflict  with  the  ills  to  which  his  flesh 
is  heir.  In  Dr.  E.  Ray  Lankester's  brilliant  little 
book,  "  The  Kingdom  of  Man,"  there  is  a  passage 
very  suggestive  in  any  consideration  of  this  text. 
He  says: 

"  The  knowledge  of  the  causation  of  disease  by 
bacterial  and  protozoic  parasites  is  a  thing  which 
has  come  into  existence,  under  our  very  eyes  and 
hands,  within  the  last  fifty  years.  The  parasite, 
and  much  of  its  nature  and  history,  has  been  dis- 
covered in  the  case  of  splenic  fever,  leprosy,  phthi- 
sis, diphtheria,  typhoid  fever,  glanders,  cholera, 


186  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

plague,  lockjaw,  gangrene,  septic  poisoning  (of 
wounds),  malaria,  sleeping  sickness,  and  some  other 
diseases  which  are  fatal  to.  man.  In  some  cases 
the  knowledge  obtained  has  led  to  a  control  of 
the  attack  or  of  the  poisonous  action  of  the  para- 
site. Antiseptic  surgery,  by  defeating  the  poison- 
ous parasite,  has  saved  not  only  thousands  upon 
thousands  of  lives,  but  has  removed  an  incalculable 
amount  of  pain."  Once  again,  therefore,  we  are 
asked,  "  Who  shall  despise  the  day  of  small 
things?"  But  Dr.  Ray  Lankester  has  another 
question  to  ask :  "  Why  should  we  be  contented 
to  wait  long  years,  even  centuries,  for  this  control, 
when  we  can  have  it  in  a  few  years.''  "  And  he 
goes  so  far  as  to  assert: 

"  Within  the  past  few  years  the  knowledge  of 
the  causes  of  disease  has  become  so  far  advanced 
that  It  is  a  matter  of  practical  certainty  that, 
by  the  unstinted  application  of  known  methods  of 
investigation  and  consequent  controlling  action, 
all  epidemic  disease  could  be  abolished  within  a 
period  so  short  as  fifty  years.  It  is  merely  a  ques- 
tion of  the  employment  of  the  means  at  our  com- 
mand. Where  there  is  one  man  of  first-rate  intel- 
ligence employed  in  detecting  the  disease-produc- 
ing parasites,  their  special  conditions  of  life,  and 
the  way  to  bring  them  to  an  end,  there  should 
be  a  thousand.  It  should  be  as  much  the  purpose 
of  civilised  governments  to  protect  their  citizens  in 
this  respect  as  It  Is  to  provide  defence  against 
human  aggression.  Yet  it  is  a  fact  that  this 
immensely  important  control  of  a  great  and  con- 


THE  DAY  OF  SMALL  THINGS        187 

stant  danger  and  injury  to  mankind  is  left  to 
the  unorganised  inquiries  of  a  few  enthusiasts.  So 
little  is  the  matter  understood  or  appreciated  that 
those  who  are  responsible  for  the  welfare  of  States, 
with  the  rarest  exceptions,  do  not  even  know  that 
such  protection  is  possible,  and  others  again  are 
so  far  from  an  intelligent  view  as  to  its  im- 
portance that  they  actually  entertain  the  opinion 
that  it  would  be  a  good  thing  were  there  more 
disease  in  order  to  get  rid  of  the  weakly  surplus 
population ! " 

For  myself,  I  cannot  but  rejoice  that  this  coun- 
try is  leading  the  nations  of  the  world  in  such 
redemptive  enterprise.  On  this  Thanksgiving 
Sunday  I  give  thanks,  as  with  a  personal  joy  and 
personal  pride,  in  the  munificence  which  equips  for 
the  service  of  humanity  the  best  thought  and 
knowledge  of  our  time.  And  I  call  upon  you  all 
to  praise  God  for  the  knowledge  He  opens  to  our 
gaze,  the  spirit  which  dominates  our  research,  and 
the  consecration  alike  of  wealth  and  of  genius  to 
the  well-being  of  our  fellows.  Mazzini  was  right, 
and  we  must  go  on  repeating  his  words :  "  We  wor- 
ship God  by  serving  man."  And  when  I  contem- 
plate all  that  may  be  involved  for  the  service  of 
universal  man  by  worship  such  as  this,  though 
there  may  be  some  dark  spots  upon  the  world's 
horizon,  yet  I  am  very  sure  that  the  light  that 
I  perceive,  it  is  the  rosy  dawn  of  day. 

We  must  not  grow  weary  of  repeating  that 
every  kingdom  which  Science  makes  her  own, 
Christianity  has  to  claim  for  Him  who  is  Lord  of 


188  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

all.  The  Gospel  has  nothing  to  lose  and  every- 
thing to  gain  from  the  advances  of  Science.  The 
higher  our  knowledge  mounts  the  deeper  will  be 
our  faith  in  God.  So,  having  gone  so  far  this 
morning,  let  us  go  one  step  further,  and  give 
thanks  for  every  indication  that  the  new  knowledge 
tends  widely  to  become  less  hostile  and  in  many 
ways  to  become  designedly  and  deliberately  ser- 
viceable to  the  old  faith.  Dr.  E.  Ray  Lankester, 
to  quote  that  fine  book  once  more,  has  said :  "  It 
should,  I  think,  be  recognised  that  there  is  no 
essential  antagonism  between  the  scientific  spirit 
and  what  is  called  the  religious  sentiment.  '  Re- 
ligion,' said  Bishop  Creighton,  '  means  the  knowl- 
edge of  our  destiny  and  of  the  means  of  fulfilling 
it.'  We  can  say  no  more  and  no  less  of  Science. 
Men  of  Science  seek,  in  all  reverence,  to  discover 
the  Almighty,  the  Everlasting.  They  claim  sym- 
pathy and  friendship  with  those  who,  like  them- 
selves, have  turned  away  from  the  more  material 
struggles  of  human  life,  and  have  set  their  hearts 
and  minds  on  the  knowledge  of  the  Eternal."  Not 
less  emphatically  does  Sir  Oliver  Lodge  rebuke  the 
assumptions  of  those  who  believe  or  profess  to  be- 
lieve that  Science  can  make  away  with  the  free 
play  of  the  human  soul  or  banish  God  from  His 
own  universe.  "  If  a  man  of  Science  seeks  to 
dogmatise  concerning  the  Emotions  and  the  Will, 
and  asserts  that  he  can  reduce  them  to  atomic 
forces  and  motions,  he  is  exhibiting  the  smallness 
of  his  conceptions,  and  gibbeting  himself  as  a 
laughing-stock    to    future    generations."      While 


THE  DAY  OF  SMALL  THINGS        189 

Lord  Kelvin,  going  further  than  his  colleagues, 
has  pronounced  the  attempt  to  be  "  utterly  ab- 
surd." "  Scientific  thought,"  he  says,  "  is  com- 
pelled to  accept  the  idea  of  Creative  Power.  Forty 
years  ago  I  asked  Liebig,  walking  somewhere  in 
the  country,  if  he  believed  that  the  grass  and 
flowers  which  we  saw  around  us  grew  by  mere 
chemical  forces.  He  answered,  '  No ;  no  more  than 
I  could  believe  that  a  book  of  botany  describing 
them  could  grow  by  mere  chemical  forces.'  "  And 
the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  seems  to  lie 
in  the  story  of  Kepler  and  the  salad :  "  Yester- 
day," he  says,  "  when  weary  with  writing,  and  my 
mind  quite  dusty  with  considering  these  atoms, 
I  was  called  to  supper,  and  a  salad  I  had  asked 
for  was  set  before  me.  '  It  seems,  then,'  said  I 
aloud,  '  that  if  pewter  dishes,  leaves  of  lettuce, 
grains  of  salt,  drops  of  vinegar  and  oil,  and  slices 
of  eggs,  had  been  floating  about  in  the  air  from 
all  eternity,  it  might  at  last  happen  by  chance  that 
there  would  come  a  salad.'  '  Yes,'  says  my  wife, 
'  but  not  so  nice  and  well-dressed  as  this  of  mine 
is ! '  "  If  it  requires  intelligence  to  make  so  nice 
a  salad,  may  we  not  rest  fairly  confident  that  the 
universe  has  not  been  produced  without  it  ? 

The  stuffs  out  of  which  the  stars  are  made  is 
the  matter  of  our  earth  and  atmosphere.  The 
order  which  is  heaven's  first  law  is  operative  in  a 
myriad  of  stars  whirling  inside  the  speck  of  dust 
you  brush  off  your  coat,  and  the  God  who  is 
transcendent  in  the  universe  is  immanent  in  the 
roseleaf  or  the  snowflake.      If  in   the  world   of 


190  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

politics  the  eighteenth  century  called  a  new  world 
into  existence  to  redress  the  balance  of  the  old, 
the  twentieth  will  call  yet  further  upon  the  micro- 
scope to  restore  the  balance  of  sanity  which  the 
telescope  disturbed;  the  infinitely  small  will  set  at 
rest  doubts  raised  by  the  infinitely  great,  and  we 
shall  have  our  answer  ready  to  the  seer's  question, 
*'  Who  hath  despised  the  day  of  small  things  ?  " 

Shall  we  call  upon  this  metropolis  to  answer 
the  old  question?  This  week  has  seen  a  celebra- 
tion peculiar  to  the  city  of  New  York.  Last  Mon- 
day flags  were  flying  in  our  streets  and  at  night 
patriotic  speeches  were  made ;  at  banquets  in  great 
hotels,  to  the  sound  of  rolling  drums,  men  in  the 
uniform  of  the  Continental  Army  evoked  mem- 
ories of  the  heroic  dead.  You  were  celebrating  the 
evacuation  of  the  city  by  the  British  one  hundred 
and  twenty-four  years  ago.  At  that  time  the 
eff'ective  population  of  New  York  City  had  been 
reduced  to  ten  thousand.  Ruin  had  stared  the 
community  in  the  face,  as  indeed,  destruction  had 
seemed  to  unseeing  eyes  to  hover  round  the  head 
of  the  new-born  nation.  But  George  Washington 
had  spoken  his  deathless  word,  which,  like  the  shot 
which  the  embattled  farmers  fired,  was  to  be  heard 
right  round  the  world :  "  We  will  erect  a  standard 
to  which  the  wise  and  good  may  repair ;  the  event 
is  in  the  hands  of  God."  Here  is  the  event  to-day, 
the  United  States  of  America,  with  territories 
comprised  within  a  single  one  of  its  all  but  half 
a  hundred  States  greater  than  all  over  which  the 
Roman  eagles  ever  flew,  with  its  eighty  millions  of 


THE  DAY  OF  SMALL  THINGS        191 

freemen,  its  wealth,  its  education,  its  religion,  and 
wherever  its  flag  is  flying  the  home  of  liberty.  The 
event  was  in  the  hands  of  God.  To  His  name  the 
praise  and  the  honour  and  the  glory  forever ! 

Who  hath  despised  the  day  of  small  thing's.'' 
When  William  Bradford,  Governor  of  the  Plym- 
outh settlement,  issued  his  proclamation  for  the 
first  Thanksgiving  Day,  the  men  and  women  who 
had  landed  from  the  Mayflower  were  reduced  to 
fifty.  Through  the  first  terrible  winter,  cold, 
hunger,  hardship,  and  disease  had  done  their  cruel 
work.  Every  other  day  a  grave  was  digged,  and 
the  survivors  dared  fix  no  stone  nor  raise  a  mound, 
lest  the  Indians  should  see  the  graves  increase  and 
be  emboldened  to  attack  those  who  remained. 
Death  by  slow  starvation  or  by  lingering  disease 
or  by  the  arrows  of  the  savages  had  seemed  the 
fate  which  waited  the  pioneers  of  civil  and  reli- 
gious liberty.  But  they  believed  in  the  Living 
God.  They  knew  that  although  clouds  and  dark- 
ness are  round  about  Him,  righteousness  and  jus- 
tice are  the  foundation  of  His  throne.  They  knew 
that  this  universe  is  bottomed  on  everlasting  right- 
eousness. They  knew  that  men  must  do  right  in 
scorn  of  consequence  for  no  reason  on  this  God's 
earth  except  that  it  is  God's  earth  and  that  right 
is  right.  They  knew  that  God  is  forever  and 
forever  on  the  side  of  righteousness,  and  they  de- 
sired above  all  things  beside  to  put  themselves 
on  the  side  of  God.  There  is  a  rope  manufactory 
in  Plymouth  which  recalls  a  phrase  in  the  old 
chronicle  about  a  rope-walk  established  very  early 


192  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

in  the  history  of  the  settlement.  The  historian 
says  of  the  men  of  that  day :  "  They  twisted  their 
consciences  into  the  ropes,  knowing  that  upon 
those  strands  many  a  heroic  life  depended."  There 
stands  the  secret  of  heroic  living  self-confessed. 
You  are  to  twist  your  consciences  into  your  busi- 
ness, into  your  finance — not  frenzied,  but  faithful, 
— into  your  commerce — not  cruel  and  corrupt,  but 
sustaining,  life-giving,  fruitful, — into  your  citi- 
zenship, into  your  politics,  into  the  simple  duties 
which  man  from  man  demands, — you  are  to  twist 
your  consciences  into  such  binding  ties  as  these, 
for  upon  them  the  life  of  the  nation  depends.  It 
is  thus  that  the  little  one  becomes  a  thousand  and 
the  small  world-great,  while  the  invisible  forces 
of  pity,  love,  and  gentleness  show  themselves 
charged  with  the  omnipotence  of  God. 

We  stride  the  river  daily  at  its  spring, 
Nor  in  our  childish  thoughtlessness  foresee 

What  myriad  vassal  streams  shall  tribute  bring, 
How  like  an  equal  it  shall  greet  the  sea. 

O  small  beginnings,  ye  are  great  and  strong, 
Based  on  a  faithful  heart  and  weariless  brain  ! 

Ye  build  the  future  fair,  ye  conquer  wrong, 
Ye  earn  the  crown,  and  wear  it  not  in  vain. 

This  were  no  true  Thanksgiving  Day  if  we  did 
not  consecrate  ourselves  once  more  to  the  service  of 
our  country  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts. 
That  which  has  been  gained,  do  you  guard.  There 
must  be  no  yielding  of  the  foundation  truths  of 
Christianity.      On   those   foundations   the   great- 


THE  DAY  OF  SMALL  THINGS        193 

ness  of  this  land  reposes.  There  must  be  no  sur- 
render of  the  spirituality  of  our  faith.  Through 
spirituality  and  faith  you  hold  those  liberties  of 
your  country  with  which  Christ  has  made  you 
free.  Empires  may  fall,  thrones  totter  to  the 
dust,  vast  territory  become  no  more  valuable  than 
so  much  howling  desert,  and  cities  become  a  wilder- 
ness of  brick  and  stone — if  a  nation  forgets  God, 
and  guarding  with  battleship  and  statecraft  calls 
not  Him  to  guard  who  neither  slumbers  nor  sleeps. 
In  God  we  trust.  And  you,  men  and  women  who 
love  your  country,  to  whom  a  blade  of  grass  from 
her  ample  prairies  speaks  a  poem  of  her  great- 
ness, to  whom  her  welfare  is  a  matter  of  eternal 
consequence  and  her  liberty  the  divinest  gift  of 
God,  you  who  are  Americans  and  patriots  indeed, 
I  pray  you, — Seek  in  communion  with  the  Christ 
of  Gethsemane,  of  Calvary,  and  of  the  Resurrec- 
tion morning  a  fresh  baptism  of  consecration,  so 
that  in  this  day  of  material  achievement  and  ma- 
terial ambition  you  may  rise  to  the  height  of  the 
splendid  privilege  to  which  the  God  of  your  fathers 
has  called  you,  the  privilege  of  safeguarding  and 
fostering  a  greatness  which  is  not  mere  bigness, 
and  of  keeping  the  soul  of  the  nation  alive. 


XII 
A  PATCHWORK  CHARACTER 


XII 

A  PATCHWORK  CHARACTER 

"  Let  not  then  your  good  be  evil  spoken  of." 

— Romans  xiv.  16. 

The  most  charitable  thing  that  any  charitable 
person  can  do  is — avoid  all  appearance  of  charity. 
The  most  loving  thing  that  any  loving  soul  can  do 
is — manifest  love  on  every  possible  occasion. 
What,  then,  is  the  essential  and  permanent  dis- 
tinction between  "  charity  "  and  "  love  "  which 
makes  it  charity  to  conceal  your  "  charity,"  but 
love  to  show  your  "  love  "  ? 

A  sad  story  is  revealed  when  this  question  is 
answered,  for  the  word  "  charity  "  has  been  for 
many  centuries  the  English  translation  of  the  New 
Testament  word  which  is  now  always  rendered 
"  love."  All  that  you  mean  by  "  love,"  all  that 
the  New  Testament  means  by  it,  the  word 
*'  charity  "  was  intended  to  convey.  Yet  to-day 
"  charity  "  is  all  but  hateful — is,  in  pious  circles, 
a  sanctimonious  thing  which  one  must  be  very 
charitable  indeed  to  tolerate,  and  elsewhere  repre- 
sents often  the  last  humiliation  of  failure  and  pov- 
erty. The  acceptance  of  charity  by  the  toiling 
poor  is  a  landmark  in  their  lives.  It  is  the  end 
197 


198  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

of  struggle,  the  exhaustion  of  hope,  the  surrender 
of  manhood  and  womanhood  and  self-respect.  The 
systematic  doling  out  of  charity,  continued 
through  long  generations,  has  sapped  the  moral 
vigour  of  a  thousand  village  communities  in  any 
country  of  the  Old  World.  Charity,  unlike  mercy, 
is  twice  baneful ;  it  chills  the  heart  of  him  that 
gives  and  him  that  takes.  It  has  ministered  to 
the  insolent  pride  and  self-sufficiency  of  the  rich; 
it  has  fostered  a  degrading  servility  on  the  part 
of  the  poor. 

And  yet  this  word  "  charity,"  let  us  say  again, 
was,  until  the  Revised  Version  appeared,  the  Eng- 
lish equivalent  of  the  great  New  Testament  word 
"  love  " !  The  original  of  it,  in  Trench's  well- 
known  phrase,  was  "  born  in  the  bosom  of  revealed 
religion."  It  was  unknown  in  classic  usage.  The 
recognised  words  for  *'  love  "  seemed  all  too  poor 
to  describe  the  state  of  soul  which  Christianity 
creates  and  maintains.  Jerome,  in  making  his 
translation  of  the  Greek  Scriptures  into  Latin, 
was  puzzled  as  to  the  word  which  he  should  use 
for  it.  When  he  chose,  his  inadequate  words  en- 
tirely missed  the  point  of  the  New  Testament 
meaning.  One  of  them,  "  caritas,"  coming  into 
English  through  the  French,  was  adopted  by  our 
translators  as  "  charity."  In  the  course  of  the 
ages  it  came  to  denote  mainly  the  giving  of  alms ; 
and  the  giving  of  alms  passed  into  the  formal, 
unloving  thing  which  has  made  the  saying,  "  as 
cold  as  charity,"  the  supreme  illustration  in  our 
language  of  the  hopeless  ruin  and  beggary  of  a 


A  PATCHWORK  CHARACTER         199 

word.  Think  what  charity  must  have  been,  how 
uncharitable,  how  callous,  how  inhuman,  before 
this  great  divine  passion  of  love  could  have  won 
for  itself  the  eternal  obloquy,  "  as  cold  as 
charity  " ! 

Here  is  one  single  illustration  of  the  wisdom 
of  the  Apostle's  exhortation,  "  Let  not  your  good 
be  evil  spoken  of."  It  is  not  the  one  he  had  in 
mind.  He  thought  of  the  difficulties  which  might 
arise  out  of  the  new  grand  freedom  of  the  Christian 
from  the  hampering  limitations  of  the  Jewish  cere- 
monial law.  He  begged  the  men  who  were  rejoic- 
ing in  their  new-found  liberty  not  to  use  it  in 
such  a  way  as  to  bring  scandal  on  the  Christian 
name,  not  to  let  the  priceless  boon  be  evil  spoken 
of.  But  the  words  are  wide — as  wide  as  they  are 
wise.  It  is  seldom  enough  for  us  to  be  good  and 
to  do  good.  We  must  be  good  in  a  good  way.  We 
must  do  a  nice  thing  nicely,  and  a  gracious  thing 
graciously.  We  must  make  virtue  beautiful  and 
lovable. 

The  unfortunate  thing  is  that  we  do  not  always 
find  goodness  beautiful.  We  often  find  it  take 
unpleasant  forms.  Sometimes  it  becomes  objec- 
tionable in  its  obtrusiveness.  It  is  censorious  and 
cantankerous.  It  gets  itself  evil  spoken  of  by 
those  who  are  most  indebted  to  it.  Some  time  ago 
the  English  Spectator  reproduced  from  The 
Ladies'  Home  Journal  an  amazing  epitaph  said 
to  be  yet  legible  in  a  Cumberland  churchyard. 
Let  me  read  it  to  you: 


200  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

Here  lie  the  bodies  of 

Thomas  Bond  and  Mary  his  wife. 

She  was  temperate,  chaste  and  charitable, 

But 
She  was  proud,  peevish  and  passionate. 

She  was  an  affectionate  wife  and  a  tender  mother, 

But 

Her  husband  and  child,  whom  she  loved, 

Seldom  saw  her  countenance  without  a  disgusting  frown  ; 

Whilst  she  received  visitors  whom  she  despised  with  an 

endearing  smile. 

Her  behaviour  was  discreet  towards  strangers 

But 

Imprudent  in  her  family. 

Abroad  her  conduct  was  influenced  by  good  breeding, 

But 

At  home  by  ill-temper. 

She  was  a  professed  enemy  of  flattery,  and  was  seldom  known 

to  praise  or  commend  ; 

But 

The  talents  in  which  she  principally  excelled 

"Were  difference  of  opinion  and  discovering  flaws  and 

imperfections. 

She  was  an  admirable  economist, 

And,  without  prodigality, 

Dispensed  plenty  to  every  person  in  her  family, 

But 
Would  sacrifice  their  eyes  to  a  farthing  candle. 

She  sometimes  made  her  husband  happy  with  her  good 

qualities, 

But 

Much  more  frequently  miserable  with  her  many  failings. 


A  PATCHWORK  CHARACTER  201 

Insomuch  that  in  thirty  years'  cohabitation 

He  often  lamented  that,  maugre  all  her  virtues, 

He  had  not  on  the  whole  enjoyed  two  years  of  matrimonial 

comfort. 

At  length, 

Finding  she  had  lost  the  affection  of  her  husband,  as  well  as 

the  regard  of  her  neighbours,  family  disputes  having 

been  divulged  by  servants, 

She  died  of  vexation,  July  20,  1768, 

Aged  48  years. 

Her  worn-out  husband  survived  her  four  months  and  two  days, 

and  departed  this  life  November  23,  1768, 

In  the  54th  year  of  his  age. 

William  Bond,  brother  to  the  deceased, 

Erected  this  stone  as  a 

"Weekly  monitor  to  the  wives  of  this  parish. 

That  they  may  avoid  the  infamy  of  having 

Their  memories  handed  down  to  posterity  with  a  patchwork 

character. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  there  is  little  good- 
ness or  grace  in  the  inscription.  This  brother-in- 
law  seems  by  no  means  to  have  been  an  ideal  per- 
son. We  are  under  no  misapprehension  as  to  his 
view  of  Mrs.  Bond.  All  that  is  needed  to  complete 
our  happiness  is  that  we  should  know  Mrs.  Bond's 
opinion  of  him.  And  if  the  dead  husband  was  at 
all  like  his  interesting  brother,  the  poor  lady  had 
not  too  easy  a  time  of  it  herself.  But  her  type 
is  not  unknown.  George  Eliot  knew  her  well,  so 
did  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning — and  so  do  most 
of  us.     It  would  not  be  proper  to  say  that  she 


202  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

brings  to  mind  a  certain  New  England  type — and 
so  it  shall  not  be  said.  I  call  you  to  witness  that 
I  have  not  quoted  any  one  of  the  charming  books 
by  Mary  Wilkins  or  Kate  Douglas  Wiggin,  nor 
referred  in  the  most  distant  way  to  the  elder  of 
the  two  aunts  in  "  Rebecca  of  Sunnybrook  Farm." 
Yet  Mrs.  Bond  is  not  simply  feminine!  There  is 
no  sex  in  sin.  Even  in  the  unhappy  accomplish- 
ments which  are  supposed  to  be  all  womanish, 
gossip,  for  instance,  and  nagging,  men  are  far 
and  away  the  greatest  offenders.  Men  gossip 
more,  gossip  worse,  and  about  worse  subjects  than 
women  ever  do.  While,  when  it  comes  to  nagging, 
women  simply  have  not  got  it  in  them  to  compete 
with  the  persistence  and  thoroughness  of  men.  So 
we  will  not,  we  men  and  women,  throw  stones  at 
each  other  gathered  round  the  grave  of  poor  Mrs. 
Bond.  Rather,  as  The  Spectator  writer  suggests, 
in  a  fine  phrase  borrowed  from  Robert  Louis 
Stevenson,  we  will  consider  this  character  as  a 
beacon  lighted  on  a  perilous  seaboard  to  warn  us 
off  the  rocks.  For  look  at  these  anomalies  again: 
She  was  a  faithful  wife,  a  good  mother,  an  ad- 
mirable housekeeper;  she  was  courteous  with  her 
neighbours,  and  charitable  to  the  poor.  Yet  she 
was  hated  by  her  husband,  disliked  by  her  neigh- 
bours, by  the  servants,  by  her  relatives,  and  she 
wore  herself  out  in  strife  and  vexation  of  spirit. 
Possessed  of  the  essentials  of  goodness,  can  you 
call  her  anything  but  good.^^  Peevish,  passionate, 
censorious,  do  you  wonder  that  her  good  was  evil 
spoken  of,  even  by  those,  probably,  who  were  not 


A  PATCHWORK  CHARACTER         203 

any  better  than  she  was,  and  certainly  not  any 
better  than  they  should  be? 

We  know  how  this  type  repelled  one  of  the  great 
women  whom  I  have  just  named,  a  woman  with 
eyes  to  see,  brains  to  comprehend,  and  heart  to 
appreciate  human  goodness.  We  know  how  Mrs. 
Browning  sketched  her  "  Mrs.  Bond  "  in  "  Aurora 
Leigh."  The  description  of  the  aunt  who  is  re- 
ceiving her  orphan  niece  into  her  home,  the  woman 
with  the  "  close  mild  mouth,  a  little  soured  about 
the  ends  through  speaking  niggardly  half- 
truths,"  with  the  "  eyes  of  no  colour,  that  once 
might  have  smiled  but  never  have  forgot  them- 
selves in  smiling,"  is  true  to  life.  So  is  the  gen- 
eralisation, "  She  thanked  God  and  sighed — some 
people  always  sigh  in  thanking  God  "  !  But  Mrs. 
Browning  does  not  mean  to  represent  her  as  a 
bad  woman.  She  is,  in  her  way,  a  good  woman, 
only  her  way  is  not  a  very  good  way,  and  so  her 
good  is  evil  spoken  of. 

Now,  this  is  not  hypocrisy,  as  the  word  "  hypoc- 
risy "  is  universally  understood.  You  will  never 
understand  human  nature  until  you  dismiss  from 
your  minds  that  hypothesis.  It  explains  nothing. 
It  is  the  cheap  sneer  of  the  irreligious  person  at 
the  man  or  woman  actively  identified  with  the  work 
of  the  Christian  Church — cheap  and  silly.  If 
we  are  to  call  one  another  "  hypocrites,"  we  can 
find  as  much  to  assail  outside  the  Church  as  in. 
Men  who  fall  below  their  own  standard  of  upright- 
ness, men  of  loud  profession  and  of  little  deeds, 
men  who  prate  of  humanity  and  are  unfihal  sons, 


204  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

unloving  husbands,  careless  fathers,  are  not  found 
in  the  Churches  only.  Carlyle  was  not  a  Chris- 
tian. One  touch  of  Christ  upon  his  heart  would 
have  made  a  better  man  of  him.  And  to  many 
of  us  it  becomes  growingly  difficult,  to  the  verge 
of  impossibility,  to  read  his  superb  preaching  of 
heroic  endurance  without  remembering  his  own 
miserable  petulance,  his  trumpetings  like  those  of 
a  wounded  elephant  when  a  pin  pricked  him,  his 
raging  and  blaspheming  against  the  whole  hu- 
man race  when  the  bookseller's  boy  was  five  min- 
utes late  with  a  parcel,  or  when  some  other  un- 
bearable misfortune  came  between  the  wind  and 
his  nobility.  I,  for  one,  cannot  read  his  glowing 
rhetoric  about  the  greatness  of  our  simple  man- 
hood without  calling  to  mind  his  snobbish  ac- 
ceptance of  a  great  lady's  patronage,  flung  to 
him  like  a  bone  to  a  dog,  and  picked  up  by  him 
until  his  wife  rebelled  against  the  paltriness  of 
it,  while  at  the  same  time  he  could  not  speak  of 
servants  without  calling  the  men  flunkeys  and  the 
women  sluts.  No,  we  need  not  talk  about  hypo- 
crites. Such  talk  will  not  lead  us  anywhere.  We 
had  better  keep  alight  for  a  little  while  this 
beacon  of  unlovely  goodness  to  warn  us  off^  a 
rocky  coast.  Learn  the  lesson — it  is  better  than 
throwing  stones. 

The  Spectator  adds  some  rules  of  living.  They 
do  not  go  very  deep,  but  they  are  worth  thinking 
about. 

The  first  is,  not  to  live  so  as  to  Inspire  fear 
in  your  immediate  surroundings.     We  ought  al- 


A  PATCHWORK  CHARACTER         205 

ways  to  be  ready,  the  writer  says,  "  in  a  social 
sense,  to  let  people  off."  There  is  a  sermon  in 
that.  I  knew  a  man  whose  praise  was  in  all  the 
Churches.  He  was  a  philosopher,  a  historian,  a 
poet.  Intellectually,  and  by  reason  of  many  com- 
manding qualities,  he  was  a  great  man.  But  he 
was  a  recluse,  a  hermit.  He  was  as  blind  as  a 
bat  to  the  promise  of  young  life.  He  had  as 
much  sympathetic  appreciation  of  character,  of 
its  needs  and  its  possibilities,  as  a  fish.  And  he 
was  the  president  of  a  college!  Nobody  could 
approach  him.  Everybody  was  afraid  of  him. 
If  he  had  picked  pockets,  it  would  have  been 
just  as  honest  as  drawing  a  salary  and  with- 
holding himself  from  the  life  of  his  men.  But 
he,  also,  was  a  good  man — only  such  men  have 
only  themselves  to  thank  if  their  goodness  is  evil 
spoken  of. 

We  can  find  illustrations  as  good  outside  the 
Churches.  Zola  once  complained  of  the  gross  in- 
justice of  his  contemporaries  towards  him,  of  the 
personal  bitterness  with  which  they  assailed  him 
when  they  were  supposed  to  be  criticising  his  work. 
In  his  soreness  and  bewilderment  he  asked  one 
of  the  greatest  of  French  men  of  letters  what 
the  explanation  could  possibly  be.  And  it  is  Zola 
himself  who  records  the  answer  which  the  great 
man  made : — "  You  have  one  immense  defect  which 
will  close  every  door  against  you.  You  cannot  chat 
for  two  minutes  with  an  imbecile  without  making 
him  feel  that  he  is  an  imbecile."  *  Very  well ;  if  you 
*  Therhe  Baquin;  preface  to  French  edition. 


206  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

are  such  a  superior  person  that  you  must  needs 
go  through  hfe  making  every  poor  fellow  whom 
you  talk  with  for  two  minutes  feel  that  he  is  an 
imbecile,  you  must  expect  your  good  to  be  evil 
spoken  of.  Stupid  people  are,  to  be  sure,  very 
trying.  And  we  are  never  stupid.  It  is  always 
the  other  people.  Yet  stupid  people  cannot  all 
be  pole-axed.  We  have  to  live  with  them.  And 
it  seems  wiser — in  default  of  the  pole-axe — to  bear 
with  them  than  go  swaggering  on,  asserting  our 
superiority  and  their  abysmal  stupidity.  There 
were  four  of  us  walking  together  once ;  three  were 
in  step  and  one  was  out.  That  one  insisted  that 
he  was  in  step ;  it  was  we  three  who  were  out.  You 
will  find  your  journey  through  life  easier  if  the 
one  wise  man  who  is  always  in  step  will  not  so 
"  particularly  damn "  the  three  others  who  are 
out. 

Another  rule  is:  Do  not  contradict  about  noth- 
ing, and  do  not  make  a  good  principle  any  more 
objectionable  than  it  is  bound  to  be.  A  man  of 
principle  is  bound  to  be  more  or  less  offensive  to 
those  who  have  no  principle  at  all.  But  try  to 
make  it  "  less  "  and  not  "  more."  Some  of  you 
already  scent  danger  in  tliis  advice;  but  there  is 
danger  in  everything.  The  great  mountaineer 
who  had  scaled  inaccessible  peaks,  who  was  the 
first  up  the  Matterhorn,  and  who  had  been  hurled 
hundreds  of  feet  down  precipices,  broke  his  leg  in 
getting  on  to  the  platform — or  off  it — when  he 
went  to  lecture  at  Birkenhead.  Of  course  there 
is  danger  in  this  advice.     And  if  you  ask  which 


A  PATCHWORK  CHARACTER         207 

is  worse,  the  compromise  of  principle  through 
undue  complaisance,  or  an  objectionable  asser- 
tion of  it,  I  decline  to  answer.  There  is  no  need 
for  you  to  be  guilty  of  the  one  or  of  the  other. 
Of  two  evils  choose — neither ! 

Readers  of  Emerson  are  familiar  with  a  crude 
illustration  of  obtrusive  and  objectionable  virtue. 
Emerson  called  on  Coleridge,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
the  old  man  was  tearing  along  In  denunciation  of 
the  folly  and  ignorance  of  Unitarlanism.  Emer- 
son Interposed  that  while  he  highly  valued  all  Mr. 
Coleridge's  explanations,  he  felt  constrained  to  tell 
him  that  he  himself  had  been  born  and  bred  a  Uni- 
tarian. Coleridge  replied  that  he  had  supposed 
so,  and  started  off  on  another  tirade ;  he  knew  all 
about  Unitarlanism;  he  had  once  been  a  Uni- 
tarian ;  he  knew  what  quackery  It  was ;  he  had  been 
called  the  rising  star  of  Unitarlanism — and  so 
forth,  and  so  forth,  with  a  rudeness  which  was 
absolutely  brutal.  And  he  wound  up  with  a  re- 
cital of  his  own  lines,  "  God's  child  in  Christ 
adopted,  Christ  my  all  " ;  but  there  had  been  little 
of  the  Spirit  of  Christ  In  the  way  he  had  chosen 
to  advance  His  cause. 

Contrast  that  with  the  action  of  a  man  who, 
you  may  think,  went  to  the  other  extreme.  He 
is  one  of  the  greatest  of  living  advocates  of  Tem- 
perance. His  name  is  known  all  over  the  Eng- 
lish-speaking world.  We  were  the  guests,  he  and 
I,  of  some  young  doctors  who  were  not  abstainers. 
We  were  Investigating  the  darker  side  of  city  life. 
We  stayed  in  their  slum  hospital  from  nine  or  ten 


208  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

o'clock  on  Saturday  night  until  two  or  three 
o'clock  on  Sunday  morning.  As  the  hours  wore 
on,  my  friend  turned  to  these  doctors  and  said: 
"  Now,  if  we  were  not  here  you  would  probably  be 
having  a  glass  of  whisky.  Do  not  let  us  inter- 
fere with  you.  Get  your  whisky  if  you  want  it, 
just  as  if  we  were  not  here."  And  they  did.  I 
offer  no  opinion  as  to  the  wisdom  or  the  morality 
of  a  teetotaler  urging  men  to  drink  whisky,  be- 
yond saying  that,  without  judging  my  friend,  I 
could  not  do  it  myself.  But  I  set  this  story  over 
against  the  Coleridge  story  for  the  purpose  of 
asking  you  to  make  two  observations.  They  are 
these : 

Pharisaism  is  a  vice,  equally  as  drunkenness  is. 
Pharisaism,  indeed,  is  the  one  vice  for  which  Jesus 
Christ  showed  no  quarter.  And,  further:  If  we 
are  heroically  faithful  to  principle  in  our  own  life, 
we  shall  not  be  afraid  of  seeming  to  compromise 
on  occasion  our  testimony  to  the  right  and  the 
true. 

This  is  the  deep  thing  which  The  Spectator 
writer  has  not  seen,  in  the  nature  of  the  case  could 
not  see.  What  is  necessary  is  the  surrender  of 
the  whole  nature  to  Christ.  The  missing  element 
in  the  goodness  which  is  evil  spoken  of  is  Christ- 
likeness.  Such  and  such  a  person  is  a  good  man — 
but  he  is  not  like  Christ !  Heaven's  gift  with  him 
has  taken  earth's  abatement.  His  best  contribu- 
tion to  the  sum-total  of  human  happiness  is  sub- 
ject to  a  heavy  discount  because  it  lacks  a  gra- 
cious somewhat.    We  do  the  right  thing,  but  dese- 


A  PATCHWORK  CHARACTER         209 

crate  it  in  the  doing.  We  keep  back  part  of  the 
price,  and  the  part  kept  back  is  ourself.  It  is 
the  lingering  egoism,  it  is  the  unslain  self,  which 
comes  into  our  goodness  to  weaken  and  spoil  it 
all.  We  do  not  get  all  the  credit  of  our  good- 
ness. Loss  of  credit  is  loss  of  power.  We  do  not 
effect  all  the  good  with  our  goodness  that  we  ought 
to.  It  is  a  rule  of  universal  applicability  and  of 
universal  f  ruitf  ulness ;  if  you  are  going  to  do  a 
thing,  do  it!  Either  come  in  or  go  out.  God 
Almighty  cannot  make  a  door  to  be  both  open 
and  shut  at  the  same  time.  If  you  are  going  to 
do  a  good  thing,  do  it  properly.  Sit  down  and 
consider  the  cost  if  you  must,  though  it  is  better 
to  do  the  right  in  scorn  of  cost,  not  so  much  as 
considering  whether  there  be  such  a  thing  as  cost. 
But  when  you  have  decided  to  do  the  right  thing, 
do  it  finely,  nobly,  greatly.  Have  you  decided  to 
give.''  Then  give  graciously,  spontaneously,  with 
an  open-handed,  whole-hearted  kindness  which 
doubles  all  the  value  of  your  giving.  Consider: 
Why  are  you  helping  this  man  at  all.''  Why,  to 
help  him !  Out  of  the  goodness  of  your  heart  and 
out  of  a  wish  to  be  of  service  to  him.  Then  how 
foolish  to  do  it  in  such  a  way  as  to  spoil  his  hap- 
piness in  receiving!  How  foolish  to  defeat  your 
own  object  by  a  way  of  doing  things  which  brings 
you  no  gain  and  involves  him  in  loss !  There  are 
men  who  have  tried  to  do  us  a  kindness,  and  they 
have  set  about  it  in  such  a  fashion  that  we  have 
not  forgiven  them  yet!  Give  or  do  not  give;  one 
or  other.    But  if  you  are  to  be  generous,  be  gen- 


210  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

,  erous  generously,  and  get  all  the  credit,  all  the 
benefit,  all  the  happiness,  and  all  the  influence  for 
good  out  of  it. 

So  with  all  life,  not  merely  with  the  giving 
of  money,  time,  or  service.  Have  you  to  make  a 
concession,  or  accept  an  unpleasant  position,  or 
submit  to  an  awkward  fact,  or  put  yourself  in 
the  position  of  one  who  acknowledges  error  and 
offers  frank  apology,?  Then  do  it  heartily.  Let 
not  your  good  be  evil  spoken  of.  Forgive  the  man 
who  has  wronged  you,  or  do  not  forgive  him.  Sub- 
mit to  the  inevitable,  or  rebel.  Concede  the  point, 
or  refuse  it;  fight,  and  die  in  your  last  ditch,  if 
you  think  this  is  Christian  duty.  These  are  rea- 
sonable, consistent  courses.  But  it  is  neither 
reasonable  nor  consistent,  it  is  neither  Christianity 
nor  common-sense,  to  yield  grudgingly  and  with  a 
bad  grace,  to  submit  to  the  humiliation  of  defeat 
without  securing  the  self-approbation  which  ac- 
companies whole-heartedness,  to  say  that  you 
forgive  while  muttering  under  your  breath  that 
you  will  not  forget,  or  to  offer  an  apology  which 
neither  satisfies  your  conscience  nor  clears  the 
offence.  Wisdom  is  in  this  advice,  the  common- 
sense  of  daily  life.  But  deeper  things  are  in  it. 
The  grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  in  the 
spirit  which  gives  itself  freely,  pouring  out  its 
own  life  in  saving  and  redeeming  men,  in  making 
life  beautiful  and  sweet. 

There  is  a  great  historic  incident  which  seems 
to  show  that  this  gracious  spirit  can  carry  a  man 
too  far ;  which,  on  the  face  of  it,  seems  to  suggest 


A  PATCHWORK  CHARACTER  211 

the  advice  that  we  should  not  be  generous  to 
excess.  During  his  Midlothian  campaign  of  more 
than  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago,  Gladstone  de- 
noimced  the  foreign  policy  of  Austria  in  language 
almost  furious.  I  remember  the  emphasis  with 
which  he  declared,  "  You  cannot  put  your  finger 
on  a  spot  on  the  map  of  Europe  and  say,  *  There 
Austria  did  well.'  "  He  became  Prime  Minister 
and  the  Austrian  Ambassador  formally  protested 
against  this  language.  It  was  in  his  apology  that 
Gladstone  used  the  famous  phrase  about  the  words 
having  been  spoken  when  "  in  a  position  of  greater 
freedom  and  less  responsibility."  The  apology 
angered  his  friends  more  than  the  original  assault 
had  angered  Austria.  It  seemed  exaggerated, 
fulsome,  almost  servile.  It  seemed  to  go  a  long 
way  beyond  the  requirements  of  the  case  and,  if 
the  original  speech  was  true,  to  be  itself  untrue. 
But  he  is  a  poor  psychologist  and  a  worse  Chris- 
tian who  cannot  explain  it  altogether.  Gladstone 
had  been  stung  by  what  he  believed  to  be  the  inso- 
lent interference  of  the  Emperor  of  Austria  in 
British  domestic  politics  and  the  insult  to  him- 
self. Nothing  of  the  sort  had  happened;  the 
newspaper  report  which  Gladstone  took  for  true 
was  false.  But  he  believed  it,  and  while  his  de- 
nunciation of  Austria  was  true  enough,  he  knew, 
in  cold  blood,  that  it  had  been  drawn  from  him 
not  by  a  consideration  of  the  justice  of  the  case, 
but  by  personal  resentment.  He  knew  that  he 
had  fallen  below  his  own  standard  of  ideal  great- 
ness; he  had  acted  in  temper,  not  in  sublime  dis- 


212  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

regard  of  personal  things.  And  the  apology 
which  seemed  actually  grovelling  to  many  of  his 
friends  was  not  addressed  to  the  Emperor  of 
Austria;  it  was  addressed  to  his  offended  better 
self.  We  can  admit  now  that  wise  men  are  not 
always  wise,  and  that  there  was  little  worldly  wis- 
dom either  in  the  original  attack  or  in  the  apology. 
But  what  depth  and  nobility  of  character  are 
here!  How  supremely  great  is  the  nature  which 
can  give  itself  away  with  such  prodigal  and  ex- 
travagant wastefulness ! 

Brethren,  if  we  are  to  be  good,  let  us  not 
be  satisfied  to  have  our  good  evil  spoken  of. 
Be  not  satisfied,  even,  to  have  your  good  well 
spoken  of.  Let  your  goodness  be  like  God's. 
Shall  we  not  take  a  fresh  grip  upon  ourselves, 
seek  a  larger  service,  a  fuller  consecration, 
and  a  closer  walk  with  God?  The  Holy  Spirit 
is  the  spirit  of  holiness.  Holiness  is  not  merely 
goodness,  but  enthusiastic  goodness,  goodness  sub- 
limed to  ecstasy,  cleansed  from  all  taint  of  selfish- 
ness, and  finding  its  satisfaction  in  the  eternal 
sacrifices  of  love.  Spirit  of  Holiness,  Power  of  the 
living  God,  touch  these  cold  hearts  of  ours,  fill 
us  with  Thy  fulness,  raise  us  to  sit  in  heavenly 
places,  possess  us  altogether,  help  us  to  present 
our  bodies,  our  faculties,  the  living  whole  of  us, 
an  offering,  holy,  acceptable  to  God,  which  is  our 
reasonable  service! 


Jesus,  Victim,  comprehending 
Love's  divine  self-abnegation, 


A  PATCHWORK  CHARACTER  213 

Cleanse  my  love  in  its  self-spending 

And  absorb  the  poor  libation  ! 
Wind  my  thread  of  life  up  higher, 
Up,  through  angels'  hands  of  fire  1 
I  aspire  while  I  expire  ! 


XIII 

MORAL    MIRACLES,    FROM    ST.    AUGUS- 
TINE TO  SAMUEL  HADLEY 


XIII 

MORAL    MIRACLES,    FROM    ST.    AUGUS- 
TINE TO  SAMUEL  HADLEY 

"The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the 
sound  thereof,  but  knowest  not  whence  it  cometh  and  whither 
it  goeth :  so  is  every  one  that  is  born  of  the  Spirit." 

— John  in.  8. 

It  is  easy  to  picture  the  scene.  The  guest- 
chamber  on  the  roof:  the  one  lamp  burning:  the 
Sohtary  Student  with  the  roll  of  Scripture,  or 
absorbed  in  silent  prayer,  until  the  closely  muffled 
figure  of  Nicodemus  mounted  by  the  stairs  outside 
the  house,  and  stood  in  the  presence  of  our  Lord. 
It  was  Passover  week,  and  the  streets  were  de- 
serted. It  was  early  Spring,  and  through  those 
deserted  streets  the  wind  was  howling.  The  old 
man  was  puzzled,  as  the  Young  Prophet  spoke 
to  him  of  the  operations  of  the  Spirit  of  God  upon 
the  soul  of  man.  And,  borrowing  an  illustration 
from  the  gusty  night,  Jesus  said  to  him :  "  The 
wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest  the 
sound  thereof.  But  thou  knowest  not  whence  it 
comes  nor  whither  it  goes.  So  is  every  one  that 
is  born  of  the  Spirit." 

For  us  the  simile  fails.     The  eternal  fact  re- 
mains.    We  have  measured  the  movements  of  the 
217 


218  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

wind.  We  can  tell  whence  it  comes  and  say 
whither  it  is  going,  calculate  its  velocity,  predict 
its  course,  and  name  the  hour  of  its  arrival.  But 
the  movements  of  the  Spirit  are  as  much  beyond 
our  divination  as  the  movements  of  the  wind  are 
beyond  our  control. 

When  the  Lancashire  proverb  says  that 
"  There's  nowt  so  queer  as  f owk,"  and  the  Ameri- 
can humourist  asserts  "  Human  nature  is  a  strange 
thing — and  there's  a  lot  of  it,"  they  do  but  pro- 
claim in  homely  speech  the  bafflement  with  which 
philosophers  and  simple  men  alike  resign  the  at- 
tempt to  deliver  the  spirit  of  man  into  the  custody 
of  a  logical  proposition.  But  when  to  this  un- 
known quantity  of  human  nature  is  added  the 
effort  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  problems  are  pre- 
sented which  are  not  merely  insoluble  at  the  pres- 
ent time,  but  which,  it  seems  to  me,  must  remain 
forever  beyond  our  ken.  We  have  no  clearer,  more 
satisfying  account  of  these  phenomena  than  had 
the  author  of  the  Book  of  Job  or  the  writer  of  the 
seventy-third  Psalm.  We  can  do  no  more  than 
cover  our  ignorance  with  this  phrase,  so  rever- 
ently repeated,  "  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  list- 
eth;  so  is  the  man  who  is  born  of  the  Spirit  of 
God." 

To  build  up  an  argument  upon  our  admitted 
ignorance  would  be  folly.  To  build  an  argu- 
ment upon  the  knowledge  of  our  ignorance  is 
justifiable.  Ignorance  is  neither  ornamental  nor 
useful  that  we  should  desire  it.  But  if  we  do 
not  know,  and  know  that  we  do  not  know,  we  have 


MORAL  MIRACLES  219 

so  far  prepared  us  to  be  wise.  This  is  the  method 
of  Bishop  Butler  with  regard  to  the  denial  of  the 
Future  Life.  You  do  not  know  what  Life  is ;  no 
one  has  been  able  to  tell  us !  You  do  not  know 
what  Death  is:  no  one  has  been  able  to  tell  us 
that !  You  are  not,  therefore,  in  a  position  to  say 
that  Death  will  put  an  end  to  Life.  You  have  no 
grounds  for  any  such  assertion.  Huxley  recog- 
nised the  validity  of  such  a  position,  and  he  went 
to  his  grave  refusing  to  commit  himself  to  a  state- 
ment that  Death  is  the  end  of  Life.  My  text  as- 
serts the  mysteriousness  of  the  working  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  upon  the  Spirit  of  Man.  We  can- 
not fathom  its  mystery,  explain  its  processes, 
account  for  its  wonders.  And  the  lessons  which 
this  baffling  mystery  can  teach  us  are  fruitful, 
comforting,  and  inspiring. 

We  must,  however,  confine  ourselves  to  one 
single  class  of  phenomena  in  which  the  Unknown 
Forces  outside  ourselves  are  working  upon  the 
Unknown  Forces  within  us.  We  must  limit 
our  view  to  those  deep  experiences  known  as 
Conversion.  And,  first,  we  will  look  at  some 
typical  cases  of  intellectual  and  moral  regen- 
eration. 

The  utter  irrelevance  of  Conversion  is  one  of  the 
strangest  things  in  life.  The  result  is  so  appar- 
ently unrelated  to  the  cause.  There  is  no  rational 
connection,  no  connection  which  can  be  rationally 
conceived,  between  the  force  exerted  and  the  result 
obtained.  There  is  no  logic  in  the  thing.  That 
this  man  has  wholly  changed  his  mind  and  his 


220  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

morals,  that  he  has  disowned  his  old  views  of  God 
and  Man  or  repudiated  his  former  way  of  living — 
that  he  was  an  atheist  and  is  a  believer — was  cold, 
selfish,  cruel,  is  warm,  generous,  loving — that  he 
was  a  drunkard  and  a  debauchee,  but  is  now  living 
with  clean  hands  and  pure  heart — that  he  was  a 
scoundrel  and  is  a  saint:  all  this  is  indisputable, 
elementary,  common.  But  the  explanation  of  the 
intellectual  and  emotional  processes,  the  explana- 
tion of  the  causes  of  the  change  and  the  working 
of  those  causes,  is  as  hopelessly  outside  the  grasp 
of  our  reason  as  the  wild  winds  of  March  are  out- 
side the  grasp  of  our  hands. 

Consider  the  deep  mysteries  of  intellectual  re- 
generation. The  type  case  is  that  of  Job.  You 
remember  the  progress  of  the  drama?  Job  has 
been  bred  in  a  certain  theory  of  the  divine  gov- 
ernment. He  has  been  taught  to  believe  in  im- 
mediate material  rewards  of  righteousness,  imme- 
diate material  retribution  following  wrong-doing. 
The  man  who  does  right  is  prosperous.  The  man 
who  does  wrong  is  overtaken  by  adversity.  So  he 
has  been  taught;  but  so  he  does  not  find.  On 
the  contrary,  he  finds  that  the  righteous  man  is 
overwhelmed  by  merciless  disaster,  while  the  sinner 
sins  on  in  prosperous  security.  Job  has  been 
given  a  formula  to  cover  the  facts  of  life.  The 
facts  grow  and  accumulate.  He  stretches  the 
formula  to  cover  them.  And  the  formula  snaps  in 
his  hands.  He  challenges  the  divine  government, 
denies  its  righteousness,  claims  a  hearing  before 
the  divine  tribunal,  and  protests  against  the  in- 


MORAL  MIRACLES  221 

justice  incarnate  in  the  universe.  Then  God 
appears,  and  answers  Job  out  of  the  whirlwind. 
And  what  does  He  say?  Nothing!  Absolutely 
nothing  which  is  to  the  point.  Nothing  which 
touches  a  single  one  of  Job's  complaints,  nothing 
which  answers  his  protests.  He  asserts  what  has 
never  been  denied  and  proves  what  has  not  been 
questioned.  Yet  Job  is  satisfied!  The  storm  has 
passed.  His  soul  is  at  peace  with  itself.  He  rages 
no  more  and  no  longer  hurls  himself  against  the 
divine  decrees.  He  confesses  that  he  has  spoken 
without  knowledge.  He  abhors  himself.  He  re- 
pents in  dust  and  ashes. 

Is  not  this  a  weakness  in  what  we  have  been 
asked  to  consider  a  flawless  work  of  genius.?  It 
is  the  truest  thing  in  "  Job."  It  is  forever  and 
forever  impossible  to  catch  up  with  the  precise 
argument  which  has  been  weighty  enough  to  effect 
such  a  radical  transformation  in  the  thinking  of 
an  earnest  man,  and  to  explain  how  the  change  was 
brought  about.  The  doubts — you  can  understand 
them.  The  difficulties — you  feel  them.  The  rage 
against  what  seems  the  reasonless  injustice  of  the 
government  of  the  world — you  can  sympathise 
with  it.  But  when  it  comes  to  analysing  and 
defining  the  arguments  which  have  met  all  these 
difficulties  and  laid  all  these  doubts  to  rest  and 
breathed  peace  upon  the  storm-tossed  soul — you 
are  beaten,  and  you  yield  the  task  in  irritation 
or  in  despair. 

There  are  few  books  which  I  have  read  oftener 
or  with  greater  care  than  Newman's  "  Apologia 


222  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

'pro  Vita  Sua  " — the  Roman  Cardinal's  justifica- 
tion of  his  own  life.  At  one  period  of  my  hfe 
it  fascinated  me.  But  how  the  arguments  which 
weighed  with  him  came  to  be  sufficient,  is  a  point 
which  always  eluded  my  grasp.  I  would  gladly 
admit  that  the  inefficiency  was  in  myself,  if  it  were 
not  that  men  so  much  wiser  and  with  so  much  more 
learning  confess  the  same  bafflement.  And  the  puz- 
zle is  there,  too,  in  Purcell's  "  Life  of  Manning." 
What  it  was  precisely  which  led  Manning  to  do 
as  he  did  is  obscure  and  intangible.  When  you 
read  Edna  Lyall's  "  Donovan  "  years  ago,  though 
you  read  it  with  admiration  and  sympathy,  you 
were  puzzled  as  to  why  the  young  Atheist  became 
a  Christian.  You  were  glad  he  did.  You  would 
have  been  disappointed  if  it  had  not  worked  out 
that  way.  But  you  could  by  no  means  under- 
stand what  arguments  had  been  powerful  enough 
to  bring  about  the  change.  And  you  said,  "  But 
this  is  a  weakness  in  the  book."  It  is  no  weakness. 
It  is  true  to  life.  The  change  is  eff^ected.  Pre- 
sumably, something  has  brought  it  about !  Whatf 
you  cannot  discover — at  least,  you  cannot  ade- 
quately explain. 

Let  me  take  an  illustration  from  contemporary 
movements  in  England.  Doubtless  there  is  much 
like  it  in  the  hfe  of  this  country.  The  last  few 
years  have  seen  a  curious  though  ephemeral  re- 
crudescence of  popular  infidelity.  A  "  smart " 
journalist,  possessed  of  a  vigorous  slap-dash  style, 
has  galvanised  the  old  Bradlaugh-Ingersoll  mate- 
rialism into  spasmodic  activity.    His  assaults  have 


MORAL  MIRACLES  223 

been  repelled  with  an  effectiveness  which  has  flung 
up  into  bold  relief  the  feebleness  of  the  atheistic 
attack.  And  yet,  during  one  year's  ministry  at 
least,  never  a  week  passed  without  bringing  to  my 
own  knowledge  some  case  of  man  or  woman 
tempted  to  repudiate  the  faith  of  Christ  as  the 
result  of  reading  these  trashy  books  and  pam- 
phlets. The  unfortunate  thing  was  that  these 
people,  generally  young  people,  had  the  energy  to 
read  the  nonsense,  but  not  to  read  the  replies.  For 
there  was  not  an  argument  of  the  atheists  which 
was  not  met,  not  an  objection  which  was  not  shat- 
tered, not  a  dogmatic  assumption  which  did  not 
crumble  into  dust.  This  generation  has  not  seen 
anything  like  such  a  demonstration  of  the  incredi- 
ble weakness  of  the  infidel  position.  One  of  the 
books  issued  in  reply  was  entitled  "  Religious 
Doubts  of  the  Democracy."  The  chapters  are 
written  by  different  men,  amongst  them  four  who 
had  lost  the  faith  which  they  once  held,  and  found 
their  way  back  to  it.  Three  of  these  are  working- 
men;  one  is  a  scholar.  The  first  tells  how  he  was 
working  in  good  causes ;  how  he  lost  hope ;  how  he 
was  saddened  by  the  ills  which  he  was  daily  com- 
bating ;  and  had  little  hope  for  his  fellows  and  for 
the  future.  He  asked  himself  whether  he  had  not 
made  a  mistake  in  abandoning  the  faith  of  other 
days,  whether  it  would  not  be  to  him  now  a  joy, 
a  motive,  a  strength,  a  hope,  an  inspiration.  And 
he  went  back  to  it ! 

The  second  gives  no  account  of  the  process  of 
return.    He  heard  a  course  of  sermons  or  lectures 


224  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

in  defence  of  Christianity,  admitted  the  argu- 
ments to  be  sound,  and  re-accepted  the  faith. 

The  third  read  something  of  Bernard  Shaw, 
which  led  him  to  read  something  of  Tolstoy,  which 
sent  him  back  to  Christ. 

The  fourth  is  a  trained  thinker.  He  thought 
out  every  argument  for  and  against  the  existence 
of  God  to  the  very  farthest  limit  to  which  he  was 
capable  of  carrying  it.  Then  he  made  his  choice 
between  the  two  sets  of  arguments;  and  decided 
for  faith. 

These  three — for  I  leave  out  of  account  the  one 
who  does  not  attempt  to  give  a  detailed  story — 
are  valuable.  But  you  must  see  that  there  is 
something  you  do  not  see !  The  "  moving  why 
they  do  it  "  is  still  to  seek.  You  say :  "  I  am  glad 
those  men  found  their  way  back  to  faith.  I  am 
glad  they  have  boldly  set  forth  so  much  of  their 
inner  and  secret  life.  I  hope  that  other  men 
may  find  their  way  back  to  Christianity  in  the 
same  way.  But  I  cannot  quite  see  what  it  was 
which  was  powerful  enough  to  bring  them  back. 
The  fact  is  there.  But  I  do  not  quite  feel  that 
I  can  explain  it."  The  wind  bloweth  where  it 
listeth,  and  you  hear  the  sound  thereof,  but  can- 
not tell  whence  it  comes  nor  whither  it  goes.  So 
is  every  one  who  is  born  of  the  Spirit. 

We  will  not  fail  to  gather  up  the  lessons  of 
this  in  a  minute  or  two.  But  first,  let  us  take 
some  instances  of  moral  regeneration. 

Here,  again,  the  type  case  is  familiar.  It  is 
the  case  of  Augustine.     This  man  had  burnt  the 


MORAL  MIRACLES  225 

candle  at  both  ends.  He  had  lived  on  two  differ- 
ent planes  at  the  same  time — intellectuality  and 
sensuality.  He  was  consumed  by  a  feverish  frenzy 
of  thought,  and  scorched  by  the  fires  of  unholy 
passion.  His  mother's  piety,  his  father's  vices, 
fought  for  mastery  in  his  blood.  He  tried  again 
and  yet  again  to  abjure  his  worldly,  wicked  life, 
and  to  accept  the  faith.  For  years  he  lived  with 
a  divided  soul.  One  day,  exhausted  by  strong 
sobbing,  he  flung  himself  down  beneath  a  fig-tree  in 
his  garden,  and  he  heard  a  voice,  as  of  a  boy  or 
girl  singing  in  a  neighbouring  house,  "  Take  and 
read;  take  and  read."  Checking  his  tears,  he 
rose;  went  to  the  place  where  he  had  left  his 
book ;  opened  it  at  random,  read  the  first  verse 
on  which  his  eye  fell :  "  Not  in  revelling  and  drunk- 
enness, not  in  chambering  and  wantonness,  not  in 
strife  and  jealousy.  But  put  ye  on  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  make  not  provision  for  the 
flesh,  to  fulfil  the  lusts  thereof."  *  And  he  says, 
"  No  further  would  I  read ;  nor  was  there  need ; 
for  instantly  at  the  end  of  this  sentence,  as  though 
my  heart  were  flooded  with  a  light  of  peace,  all 
the  shadows  of  doubt  melted  away."  f  Not  very 
rational,  is  it.''  But  you  cannot  deny  that  some- 
thing happened.  This  polished  man  of  the  world 
with  his  worldly  vices  became  a  saint  of  God,  for 
bane  and  blessing  the  doctor  of  the  Church  of 
Christ  for  fifteen  centuries. 

We  can  find  an  illustration  nearer  home.  Most 
of  you  are  familiar  with  the  work  of  the  late 
♦Romans  xiii.  13,  14.  f  "  Confessions"  :  book  8  ;  chapter  12, 


£26  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

Samuel  H.  Hadley.  His  book,  "  Down  in  Water 
Street,"  the  story  of  sixteen  years'  life  and  work 
in  Water  Street  Mission,  has  been  widely  read 
and  freely  discussed.  Many  of  you  knew  the 
man;  most  of  you  know  the  work.  Let  us  take 
his  story: 

"  On  Tuesday  evening,  the  18th  of  April,  1882, 
I  sat  in  Kirker's  saloon,  in  Harlem,  at  One  Hun- 
dred and  Twenty-fifth  Street  and  Third  Avenue. 
Our  home  was  destroyed,  and  my  faithful,  loving 
wife  had  gone  back  South  where  I  had  married 
her.  She  had  stood  by  me  to  the  last.  How  she 
could  do  it  I  cannot  understand.  Dear,  faithful, 
truthful  wife !  She  is  still  living,  and  I  pray  niay 
be  spared  many  years  to  me.  I  think  I  had  never 
given  her  a  cross  word — surely  she  had  not  given 
me  one :  but  our  home  was  a  drunkard's  home,  and 
all  was  gone.  I  had  pawned  everything  or  sold 
everything  that  would  buy  a  drink.  I  could  not 
sleep  a  wink.  I  had  not  eaten  for  days,  and  for 
the  four  nights  preceding  I  had  suffered  with 
delirium  tremens  from  midnight  until  morning. 

*'  I  had  often  said  I  would  never  be  a  tramp,  I 
would  never  be  cornered,  for  if  that  time  ever 
came,  I  had  determined  to  find  a  home  in  the 
bottom  of  the  river.  But  our  Lord  so  ordered 
it  that  when  that  time  did  come  I  was  not  able 
to  walk  one  quarter  of  the  way  to  the  river. 

**  I  was  sitting  on  a  whiskey  barrel  for  perhaps 
two  hours,  when  all  of  a  sudden  I  seemed  to  feel 
some  great  and  mighty  presence.  I  did  not  know 
then  what  it  was.     I  learned  afterwards  that  it 


MORAL  MIRACLES  227 

was  Jesus,  the  sinner's  Friend.  Dear  reader, 
never  until  my  dying  day  will  I  forget  the  sight 
presented  to  my  horrified  gaze.  My  sins  ap- 
peared to  creep  along  the  wall  in  letters  of  fire. 
I  turned  and  looked  in  another  direction,  and 
there  I  saw  them  again. 

"  I  have  always  believed  I  got  a  view  of  eter- 
nity right  there  in  that  ginmill.  I  believe  I  saw 
what  every  poor  lost  sinner  will  see  when  he  stands 
unrepentant  and  unforgiven  at  the  bar  of  God. 
It  filled  me  with  an  unspeakable  terror.  I  sup- 
posed I  was  dying  and  this  was  a  premonition.  I 
believe  others  in  the  saloon  thought  that  I  was 
dying,  but  I  cared  very  little  then  what  people 
thought  of  me.  I  got  down  from  the  whiskey 
barrel  with  but  one  desire,  and  that  was  to  fly 
from  the  place. 

"  A  saloon  is  an  awful  place  to  die  in  if  one 
has  had  a  praying  mother.  I  walked  up  to  the 
bar  and  pounded  it  with  my  fist  until  I  made  the 
glasses  rattle.  Those  near  by  who  were  drink- 
ing looked  on  with  scornful  curiosity.     I  said: 

"  '  Boys,  listen  to  me !  I  am  dying,  but  I  will 
die  in  the  street  before  I  will  ever  take  another 
drink ' — and  I  felt  as  though  this  would  happen 
before  morning. 

"  A  voice  said  to  me :  '  If  you  want  to  keep  that 
promise,  go  and  have  yourself  locked  up.'  There 
was  no  place  on  earth  I  dreaded  more  than  a 
police  station,  for  I  was  living  in  daily  dread  of 
arrest;  but  I  went  to  the  police  station  in  East 
One  Hundred  and  Twenty-sixth  Street,  near  Lex- 


228  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

ington  Avenue,  and  asked  the  captain  to  lock 
me  up." 

Well,  after  he  had  spent  some  time  in  the  cell, 
he  found  his  way  to  his  brother's  house,  where 
every  care  was  given  to  him.  On  the  Sunday 
morning  he  went  to  a  mission  service.  When  the 
invitation  was  given,  he  knelt  down  with  a  crowd 
of  drunkards  and  others.  At  last  he  stammered 
a  prayer,  "  Dear  Jesus,  can  you  help  me.'*  "  And 
the  rest  must  be  told  in  his  own  words  again : 

"  Dear  reader,  never  with  mortal  tongue  can 
I  describe  that  moment.  Although  up  to  that 
time  my  soul  had  been  filled  with  indescribable 
gloom,  I  felt  the  glorious  brightness  of  the  noon- 
day sunshine  in  my  heart.  I  felt  that  I  was  a 
free  man.  Oh,  the  precious  feeling  of  safety,  of 
freedom,  of  resting  on  Jesus !  I  felt  that  Christ 
with  all  His  love  and  power  had  come  into  my  life. 
From  that  moment  until  now  I  have  never  wanted 
a  drink  of  whiskey,  and  have  never  seen  money 
enough  to  make  me  take  one.  The  precious  touch 
of  Jesus'  cleansing  blood  in  my  soul  took  from 
my  stomach,  my  brain,  my  blood,  and  my  imagina- 
tion the  hell-born  desire  for  whiskey.  Hallelu j  ah ! 
What  a  Saviour !  " 

It  is  time  to  gather  up  some  of  the  lessons. 
These  phenomena  of  intellectual  and  of  moral 
regeneration  are  past  all  explaining.  We  cannot 
see  what  the  force  has  been  nor  how  it  has  acted. 
What  does  this  suggest.'' 

Here  is  encouragement  for  the  parent  and  the 
teacher.     The  influences  of  early  days  and  early 


MORAL  MIRACLES  229 

precepts  come  back  in  the  life  of  Augustine  and 
ten  thousand  others.  The  work  seems  thrown 
away.  The  lesson  is  lost.  The  early  influences 
are  dead  and  buried,  and  there  is  no  glorious  hope 
of  a  blessed  resurrection  for  them.  So  it  seems. 
But  that  is  not  the  case.  The  forgotten  name 
comes  back  when  you  cease  to  think  about  it. 
After  many  days  the  bread  you  have  cast  upon 
the  waters  is  found  again.  Your  Sunday  School 
work  is  poor  enough,  in  the  eyes  of  men  who  would 
never  dream  of  lending  a  hand  to  help  you.  It 
is  small  and  contemptible,  despicable  in  the  eyes 
of  the  strong  and  clever.  But  you  Sunday  School 
teachers  may  do  your  work  in  hope  and  with  a 
brave  heart,  for  all  that.  When  your  scholars — 
though  they  forget  you — are  preaching  the  Gos- 
pel from  honoured  pulpits  as  ministers  of  Christ, 
or  setting  fresh  dignity  upon  the  Christian  name 
by  lives  of  honourable  citizenship,  when 

The  world  shall  link  their  names 
With  gracious  lives  and  manners  fine, 
The  teacher  shall  assert  her  claims, 
And  proudly  whisper,  "  These  were  mine." 

And  if  you  do  not  live  to  see  it,  believe  that  In 
characters  which  have  been  ennobled,  lives  en- 
riched, and  souls  saved,  the  energy  of  your  life 
has  become  immortal. 

Here  is  mighty  encouragement  for  all  forms  of 
non-sensational  preaching.  We  will  not  deny  the 
fervid  mission,  the  penitent  bench,  the  inquiry 
room,  the  hypnotism,  to  those  who  can  serve  God 
with   such  machinery.      But   will  you   trust   the 


230  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

power  of  truth?  Will  you  be  satisfied  to 
preach  the  word  faithfully,  leaving  to  the  Spirit 
of  God  the  work  of  following  this  calm,  reasoned, 
strong  ministry  of  yours?  Will  you  take  your 
stand  with  Jean  Ingelow  and  say : 

I  am  glad  to  think 
I  am  not  bound  to  make  the  world  go  right ; 
But  only  to  discover  and  to  do, 
With  cheerful  heart,  the  work  that  God  appoints. 

I  will  trust  in  Him, 
That  He  can  hold  His  own. 

But  the  best  of  all  is  the  encouragement  which 
is  afforded  to  worJc  of  every  conceivable  variety. 
It  is  impossible  to  tell  how  a  book,  an  argument, 
a  sermon,  will  strike  any  given  human  being.  All 
preaching  is  relative — relative  to  the  person  to 
whom  it  is  addressed.  Every  apologetic  is  rela- 
tive— relative  to  the  person  to  whom  it  is  pre- 
sented. When  an  argument  for  the  truth  of 
Christianity  is  demanded,  you  must  consider, 
What  sort  of  an  argument  is  wanted?  as  much  as. 
What  sort  of  an  argument  is  needed?  You  have 
all  the  experience  of  all  the  ages  against  you 
when  you  conclude  that  a  flawless  argument, 
armour-plated  and  irrefutable,  can  alone  convince 
and  convert.  You  have  all  the  experience  of  all 
the  ages  against  you  when  you  conclude  that  only 
the  highest  type  of  teaching  commands  adherents, 
only  the  sublimest  eloquence  wings  the  preaching 
of  the  Gospel  message.  A  preacher  often  finds 
that  a  sermon  so  paltry,  so  wretched  that  it  has 


MORAL  MIRACLES  231 

made  him  despise  himself  and  pray  that  he  may 
never  preach  again,  has  carried  a  blessing  to  some 
human  heart.  There  is  no  mete  nor  bound  nor 
measure  to  the  variety  of  men  and  minds,  and 
none  to  the  arguments  and  appeals  which  may 
reach  them.  This  is  a  plea  for  tolerance  of  every 
known  and  conceivable  method  of  Christian  service. 
And  it  is  more.  It  is  a  reminder  of  the  existence 
of  those  omnipotent  forces  outside  ourselves  which 
we  have  come  to  regard  as  the  Spirit  of  God.  We 
do  not  need  to  scout  intellectuality,  and  all  the 
gifts  of  culture,  method,  order,  eloquence,  which 
the  Church  is  able  to  display  and  to  direct.  But 
beyond  these,  greater  than  these,  \^orking  through 
them  often,  and  often  disdaining  them,  is  the 
Spirit  which,  like  the  viewless,  restless  wind, 
breathes  where  it  will,  uncommanded,  chainless, 
free,  convicting  the  world  of  sin,  of  righteousness, 
of  judgment,  provoking  penitence,  inspiring  as- 
surance, blessing  the  soul  with  enduring  peace. 
Touched  by  this  Spirit,  the  failures  of  God  are 
seen  to  be  richer  than  the  triumphs  of  men,  the 
weak  things  of  earth  confound  the  mighty,  the 
small  become  world-great,  and  our  human  society 
is  transformed  into  the  Kingdom  of  God. 


XIV 
THE  FIRST  AND  THE  LAST 


XIV 
THE  FIRST  AND  THE  LAST 

'•  He  taught  them  as  one  having  authority." 

— Matthew  vn.  28. 

As  one  "having  authority" — not  by  authority. 
And  it  makes  a  whole  world  of  difference.  There 
were  those  on  the  earth  at  that  time  who  could 
and  did  speak  by  authority.  They  have  passed 
away,  and  mankind  knows  them  and  their  au- 
thority no  more.  Christ  spoke  as  one  whose 
authority  is  personal  and  innate.  And  each  age 
adds  fresh  lustre  to  His  name. 

In  Jerusalem  sat  Caiaphas,  High  Priest  of 
Jehovah,  supreme  head  amongst  mortals  of  the 
Jewish  Church,  living  embodiment  of  a  thousand 
years  of  history,  of  Providential  guidance,  of 
glorious  traditions  running  back  to  the  day  when 
on  the  mountain  height  Moses  held  awful  com- 
munion with  God,  and  Aaron  spoke  to  the  great 
congregation  as  the  mouthpiece  of  Deity.  In  the 
person  of  Caiaphas  justice  and  religion  should 
both  have  been  visibly  set  forth  before  the  eyes 
of  the  nation.  In  the  person  of  Caiaphas  justice 
and  religion  were  alike  trampled  under  foot.  Upon 
him  the  real  guilt  of  the  Crucifixion  rests.  And 
not  a  human  being  amongst  earth's  uncounted 
millions  would  to-day  so  much  as  remember  his 
235 


236  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

name  but  for  his  connection  with  that  terrific 
crime.    Yet  he  spoke  by  authority. 

In  his  palace  at  Tiberias  sat  another  who  spolce 
by  authority.  In  the  portrait  galleries  of  history 
it  would  be  difficult  to  find  one  at  once  so  dissolute, 
so  wicked,  and  so  contemptible  as  Herod  Antipas. 
In  Jerusalem  Pontius  Pilate  reigned  by  the  au- 
thority of  distant  and  mighty  Caesar.  Proudly 
the  Roman  lord  boasted  his  power,  bidding  the 
Saviour  of  the  world,  on  the  day  when  He  stood 
at  his  judgment  bar,  remember,  "  I  have  power 
to  set  Thee  free  and  power  to  send  Thee  to 
the  Cross."  These  two  are  names  written  in 
water.  The  gnat  that  sports  for  a  day  his  little 
life  in  the  sun  would  possess  as  much  significance 
for  us  as  both  together  were  they  not  linked  on  in 
the  minds  of  men  forever  with  the  Pale  Prisoner 
who  set  their  authority  at  nought.  The  genera- 
tions have  crowned  Him  Lord  of  All.  The  great- 
est intellects  of  nineteen  centuries  have  bowed  be- 
fore His  authority. 

There  was  an  occasion  when  the  representa- 
tives of  law  and  order  and  political  authority 
sought  to  minimise  His  personal  authority  by  a 
question  entirely  conditioned  and  circumscribed  by 
the  life  of  which  they  formed  a  part.  Officers 
had  been  sent  to  arrest  Him.  They  were  para- 
lysed in  His  presence.  His  spell  was  omnipotent 
over  them.  They  could  no  more  have  executed 
their  warrant  than  they  could  have  snatched  the 
Bun  from  the  heavens.  They  came  back  reporting 
their  failure  and  declaring,  "  Never  man  spake 


THE  FIRST  AND  THE  LAST         237 

like  this  man."  Their  masters  demanded  of  them: 
"  Are  ye  also  led  astray  ?  Have  any  of  the  rulers 
believed  on  Him? "  Any  of  the  rulers?  The 
question  is  significant.  It  was  meant  to  convey  an 
argument.  "  The  judgment  of  the  illiterate  mob 
whom  this  Man  has  moved  is  worthless.  Do  you 
not  see  that  no  person  of  culture,  of  taste,  of 
social  position,  no  person  of  importance  in  the 
community,  has  lent  the  weight  of  his  name  and 
his  authority  to  the  impostor  .f*  Go  to  now.  He 
is  nothing.  Have  any  of  the  rulers  believed  on 
Him?" 

This  is  a  question  which  all  but  the  most  vigor- 
ous and  independent  minds  are  every  day  asking. 
In  the  world  of  literature,  of  art,  of  social  ob- 
servance, it  is  the  first  and  last  question.  That 
answered,  all  is  known.  Who  has  declared  this 
book  to  be  "  literature  "  ?  Who  has  answered  the 
question  about  this  picture.  Is  it  art?  Who  has 
certified  this  person?  Have  any  of  the  rulers? 
For  who  are  we  that  we  should  read  a  book  for 
ourselves,  and  form  an  unbiassed  judgment,  and 
cherish  an  admiring  and  grateful  sentiment  to- 
ward its  unknown  writer?  Or  what  are  we  that 
we  should  so  much  as  know  whether  we  like  a 
picture  or  not,  or  dare  to  say  that  our  souls 
were  suffused  by  an  added  tenderness  as  our  eyes 
feasted  on  its  beauty?  And  how  should  we  dare 
to  dress  as  we  choose,  or  furnish  our  rooms  as  we 
like,  or  set  our  own  precedents  and  establish  our 
own  conventions?  It  is  out  of  the  question.  No- 
body but  a  Philistine,  living  on  the  outer  edge  of 


238  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

barbarism,  an  offence  to  the  Chosen  People,  the 
children  of  culture  and  light,  would  even  dream  of 
such  an  outrage.  Men  and  women  were  meant  to 
be  gregarious.  Minds  were  intended  to  be  ground 
together  into  pulp  by  the  social  organism.  God 
may  have  created  man  upright ;  but  He  is  a  long 
way  off,  and  Mrs.  Grundy  is  very  near;  and  you 
might  as  well  be  out  of  the  world  as  out  of  the 
fashion.  Wherefore,  thou  shalt  by  no  means  think 
for  thyself,  nor  see  with  thine  own  eyes,  nor 
follow  thine  own  judgment,  nor  obey  the  dictates 
of  thine  own  heart ;  for  all  these  things  do  the 
prophets  and  brave  men  seek  after.  Verily,  I  say 
unto  you,  they  have  their  reward.  But  mediocre 
natures  must  forever  ask,  Have  any  of  the  rulers 
believed  on  this  wise.'* 

Now,  you  do  not  need  to  be  reminded  that  this 
is  a  way  of  living  absolutely  ruinous  to  every 
noble  impulse  of  mind  and  spirit.  It  is  the  stulti- 
fication of  our  manhood  and  womanhood.  It  is 
the  bankruptcy  of  individuality.  It  is  the  degra- 
dation of  the  intellect.  It  is  ultimately  the  loss  of 
the  soul.  It  is  degeneration  of  the  worst  type, 
degeneration  that  blasphemes  the  divine  Father- 
hood, and  by  the  very  potency  of  its  stubborn 
weakness  thwarts  the  Almighty  purpose  in  ordain- 
ing us  men  and  women.  For  were  it  proper  for 
us  to  cease  from  thinking  and  accept  opinions 
imposed  upon  us  by  outer  authority,  to  cease  to 
aspire,  rebel,  and  create;  were  the  faculty  of  imi- 
tation the  one  by  which  supremely  we  ought  to  live, 
then  the  effort  of  making  us  rational  human  crea- 


THE  FIRST  AND  THE  LAST  239 

tures  was  an  act  of  supererogation  on  the  part  of 
Omnipotence.  Men  and  women  were  not  needed  for 
such  a  Hfe.  Monkeys  would  have  done  as  well. 
We  degrade  ourselves  when  our  first  question  and 
our  last  is,  Have  any  of  the  rulers  believed  on — 
this  or  that? 

There  is  no  sphere  of  our  life,  no  sphere  of 
intellect,  emotion,  or  action,  which  can  claim  ex- 
emption from  this  law.  Least  of  all  must  you 
dare  to  claim  it  for  your  religious  life.  You  must 
not  accept  as  infallible  the  decrees  of  any  Pontiff, 
Priest,  or  Church.  You  must  not  deliver  up  your 
judgment  at  the  bidding  of  any  man  however  holy, 
nor  attempt  to  walk  life's  long  journey  in  the 
fetters  of  any  creed  that  man  has  made.  The 
moment  you  admit  that  any  oracle,  human  or 
divine,  any  doctrine  or  any  literature  or  any  rev- 
elation, is  too  sacred  to  be  examined  by  your  rea- 
son, you  are  a  mental  serf.  In  this  free  land  you 
have  a  perfect  right  to  state  what  you  at  the 
present  time  believe,  if  you  wish  to  make  the  state- 
ment and  if  you  think  that  it  has  any  interest 
for  your  neighbour.  But  there  is  no  land  beneath 
the  sun  where  you  have  the  moral  right  to  pledge 
yourself  to-day  to  believe  the  same  thing  to-mor- 
row. I  know  not  yet  whether  on  this  vast  conti- 
nent, amid  the  aberrations  of  the  many  sects, 
there  may  not  be  found  Baptists  who  have  so  far 
departed  from  the  Baptist  spirit  as  to  impose 
upon  themselves  the  limitations  of  a  Creed.  It 
is  the  glory  of  the  Baptist  folk  from  whose  loins 
I  spring,  the  heroic  people  who  have  led  the  van 


240  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

in  the  march  of  humanity  toward  soul-hberty  and 
light,  that  they  have  never,  Hke  "  lesser  breeds 
without  the  law,"  taken  shelter  from  the  storm  of 
intellectual  and  spiritual  unrest  within  the  con- 
volutions of  a  Creed.  And  for  myself  I  know  that 
I  would  not  sign  a  Creed  even  though  I  had  writ- 
ten it  with  my  own  hand !  There  is  a  fine  passage 
in  Max  Miiller  in  which  a  point  of  grammar  be- 
comes luminous  with  great  teaching  for  the  soul. 
He  tells  us  that  the  Hindoo  word  for  "  truth  "  is 
a  participle  of  the  verb  "  to  be."  It  is  the  word 
"  sat,"  meaning  that  which  is.  And  Max  Miiller 
adds: 

"  Whoever  has  once  stood  alone,  surrounded 
by  noisy  assertions,  and  overwhelmed  by  the 
clamour  of  those  who  ought  to  know  better,  or, 
perhaps,  did  know  better — call  him  Galileo  or 
Darwin,  Colenso  or  Stanley,  or  any  other  name — 
he  knows  what  a  real  delight  it  is  to  feel  in  his 
heart  of  hearts,  this  is  true ;  this  is ;  this  is  sat — 
whatever  daily,  weekly,  or  quarterly  papers,  what- 
ever bishops,  archbishops,  or  popes  may  say  to 
the  contrary." 

Yes;  that  real  delight  is  worth  knowing.  It 
is  worth  enduring  much  that  we  may  gain  it.  In 
the  animation  and  invigoration  which  it  pours 
into  the  blood  life  is  worth  living.  And  compared 
with  its  glad  pulsations  we  only  live  at  some  poor 
dying  rate  when  our  religious  life  is  bounded 
north,  south,  east,  and  west  by  the  question. 
Have  any  of  the  rulers  of  the  people  believed  all 
this  before  us.'' 


THE  FIRST  AND  THE  LAST         241 

So  far  I  trust  you  have  agreed  with  me.  But 
let  us  consider  this  matter  widely  and  wisely.  We 
shall  not  consider  it  wisely  unless  we  view  it  widely  f 
I  have  conceded,  surely,  all  that  you  can  possi- 
bly demand  on  the  part  of  human  liberty.  I  have 
admitted  that  you  cannot  be  expected  to  accept 
anything  solely  on  the  ground  that  it  is  certified 
to  you  by  authority.  But  now  I  desire  to  ask 
whether  there  is  not  a  legitimate  sphere  of  au- 
thority. And  whether  in  the  nature  of  things 
we  must  not  forever  and  forever  recognise  the 
place  and  function  and  power  of  one  who  speaks 
as  having  authority — whether,  to  accept  the 
formula  of  the  Pharisees  again,  there  are  not 
occasions  when  it  is  perfectly  honourable  and  even 
our  duty  to  ask,  Have  any  of  the  rulers  believed? 
We  have  seen  that  the  question  may  be  the  hall- 
mark of  a  snob,  an  intellectual  degenerate,  a  spir- 
itual bond-slave.  I  submit,  however,  that  it  may 
be  asked  in  such  a  way  as  to  deserve  none  of  these 
epithets :  and  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  life  could 
not  be  lived  if  it  were  not  so.  If  none  of  us  is 
ever  to  yield  precedence  to  those  who  speak,  not 
by  authority,  but  as  having  authority,  why, 
Chaos  is  come  again.  Such  an  attitude  is 
unthinkable. 

Let  us  go  into  this  for  a  minute  or  two.  And 
the  position  seems  to  be  this :  it  is  your  inalienable 
right  to  repudiate  dictation  as  to  what  you  shall 
think  or  what  you  shall  believe,  come  the  dictation 
from  what  source  it  will.  You  may  break  entirely 
with  the  past.     It  is  your  prerogative.    You  may 


242  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

repudiate  every  utterance  of  wise  men  and  brave, 
poets  and  prophets,  evangelists  and  seers,  and 
every  word  of  Christ  Himself.  You  may  stand 
upon  your  rights  as  a  free  and  conscious  person 
on  this  earth,  assert  your  claim  to  think  for 
yourself  and  judge  for  yourself,  and  hold  no  con- 
clusions but  those  to  which  your  own  unfettered 
mind  has  singly  come.  That  is  your  right.  And 
if  you  choose  to  exercise  it  you,  will  find  that  life 
is  but  a  tale  told  hy  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and 
fury,  signifying  nothing.  In  Mr.  Owen  Wister's 
fine  book,  "  The  Seven  Ages  of  Washington,"  he 
complains  that  a  wrong  conception  even  of  the 
Declaration  of  Independence  as  Jefferson's  orig- 
inal invention  prevails  to  this  day.  He  points  out 
that  it  could  not  be  an  original  invention,  of 
Jefferson  or  of  any  other  man.  Jefferson  merely 
drafted  the  document,  expressing  ideas  well  estab- 
lished in  the  contemporary  air.  And  he  wrote  his 
sentences  loosely,  because  the  ideas  they  expressed 
were  so  familiar  as  to  render  exact  definitions  need- 
less. And  I  suppose  that  it  would  be  an  easy, 
though  a  very  lengthy,  task  for  any  of  us  to 
trace  the  historical  evolution  of  those  ideas.  It 
has  been  often  done  in  the  literature  of  several 
generations  and  of  various  countries  besides  this. 
What  part  France  contributed,  and  how  much 
England — do  we  need  to  debate  it  now.'*  And  our 
study  of  the  liberties  of  the  American  people, 
would  it  not  take  us  back  step  by  step  until  we 
stood  with  sword  on  thigh  with  the  Barons  who 
faced  King  John  at  Runnymede,  and  back  further 


THE  FIRST  AND  THE  LAST         243 

still  until  we  lost  ourselves  in  English  villages 
long  centuries  before  the  English  people  saw  the 
British  Isles,  when  each  community  kept  sacred 
its  OAvn  borders,  in  the  little  corner  of  North- 
western Europe  between  the  country  we  now  call 
Schleswig-Holstein  and  the  sea?  The  men  who 
signed  the  Declaration  of  Independence  were  inde- 
pendent enough  and  ready  enough  to  declare  it. 
They  had  the  right  to  break  with  the  thought  of 
ages  past  and  gone.  They  were  in  the  mood  to  do 
a  little  breaking!  In  their  souls  they  felt  the 
glorious  impulse  of  that  right,  and  eighty  millions 
of  freemen  to-day  live  by  its  breath.  But  they 
knew  and  we  know  that  it  is  not  in  human  nature 
to  tear  up  the  past  by  the  roots  and  plant  life 
afresh  in  the  soil  as  though  nothing  had  ever 
grown  there.  They  repudiated,  very  effectively, 
the  dictation  of  men  and  governments  and  na- 
tions that  would  speak  to  them  by  authority.  But 
the  Constitution  under  which  we  live  is  the  eternal 
witness  to  their  acceptance  of  the  vital  and  pro- 
lific thought  of  heroic  souls,  the  obscure,  the  silent, 
and  the  dead,  who  were  not  dead  but  alive,  and 
who  spoke  as  those  having  authority,  authority  to 
shape  the  thought  of  living  men. 

This  should  be  clear  enough.  If  not,  consider 
your  own  attitude  to  Science.  Any  Science  will 
do.  Astronomy  will  serve.  You  decide  to  begin 
the  study  of  it.  You  have  a  perfect  right  to 
repudiate  all  the  conclusions  of  your  predecessors, 
to  disdain  the  slow  processes  of  their  investiga- 
tions, and  to  ignore  their  results.     You  have  a 


244  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

perfect  right  to  begin  from  the  very  beginning 
of  things  and  give  us  a  new  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence concerning  things  astronomical.  But  I 
seriously  advise  you  to  do  nothing  of  the  sort. 
I  am  afraid  you  will  be  star-gazing  a  long  time 
before  you  see  anything  worth  seeing.  You  have 
just  the  same  right  as  Galileo  or  Newton  or 
Herschel  or  Lockyer  or  anybody  else  to  have 
opinions  about  the  stars,  and  to  state  them.  Only, 
if  you  begin  by  proclaiming  that  indubitable  fact, 
and  steadily  refuse  to  profit  by  the  work  of  men 
who  still  speak  as  having  authority,  the  world  is 
likely  to  grow  cold  in  waiting  for  some  opinion 
of  yours  which  happens  to  be  worth  waiting 
for! 

All  this  holds  good  of  Religion.  If  it  is  his- 
torically true  of  the  founders  of  constitutional 
liberty,  and  if  it  is  necessarily  true  of  every  study, 
the  most  elementary  or  the  most  profound,  to 
which  you  can  apply  yourself,  it  must  also  be 
true  of  religious  speculation  and  conviction.  Your 
mind  is  not  built  in  water-tight  compartments. 
You  have  the  right  to  think  out  everything  for 
yourself,  to  begin  at  the  beginning,  to  start  as 
though  no  human  being  had  ever  inquired  or 
yearned  or  aspired  or  prayed,  and  to  ignore  alike 
the  beliefs  of  philosophers,  the  witness  of  martyrs, 
and  the  raptures  of  saints.  You  have  a  right 
to  do  all  this.  No  man  nor  body  of  men,  no  theo- 
logian nor  Church,  can  limit  your  freedom  by 
authority.  Claim  your  right,  and — forgive  me 
— ^you  will   only   be   a   laughing-stock  for  your 


THE  FIRST  AND  THE  LAST  245 

pains.  You  may  split  the  ears  of  the  groundlings, 
but  you  will  make  the  judicious  grieve.  You  will 
gibbet  yourself  for  the  ridicule  of  earnest  souls 
who  love  liberty  as  dearly  as  you  do,  but  know  that 
centuries  of  aspiration  and  of  heroism  speak,  as 
having  authority,  to  the  children  of  every  suc- 
ceeding age. 

I  do  not  claim  too  much  on  behalf  of  such  au- 
thority. I  am  willing  to  confine  it  within  bounds. 
But  you  will  admit  that  in  the  experience  of  men 
and  women  who  have  loved  God,  lived  in  His  fear, 
and  died  in  the  faith  of  Jesus,  and  in  the  history 
of  nations  in  the  midst  of  which  His  name  has 
been  held  dear,  there  is  at  least  that  which  serves 
to  create  a  presumption  in  favour  of  the  truth 
and  reality  of  religion.  A  presumption,  I  say ; 
that  is  not  claiming  too  much. 

Men  have  borne  this  witness:  They  say  that 
there  have  been  times  when  the  veil  which  sepa- 
rates the  visible  from  the  invisible  has  worn  thin 
in  places,  and  they  have  seen  God.  They  say  that 
they  have  been  conscious  of  power  granted  to 
them  in  their  weakness,  power  not  of  earth,  but 
of  heaven.  They  say  that  they  have  called  to  God 
and  He  has  heard,  given  rest  amid  toil,  peace  in 
conflict,  comfort  in  sorrow,  strength  in  temptation, 
and  life  from  the  dead.  They  declare  that  they 
have  been  as  sure  of  the  existence  of  God  as  of 
their  own,  and  have  had  as  good  reason  for  be- 
lieving in  His  love  as  for  believing  in  that  of 
father  or  mother,  husband  or  wife.  This  testi- 
mony has  been  consistent  with  itself.     It  has  not 


246  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

faltered  with  the  shock  of  persecution.     The  wit- 
nesses have  sealed  it  with  their  blood. 

And  in  the  course  of  history,  the  most  colossal, 
outstanding,  omnipresent  fact  is  that  of  Religion. 
The  Church  is  the  most  conspicuous  object,  look 
where  you  will  at  any  time  for  the  last  fifteen 
hundred  years.  The  greatest  church  in  the  great- 
est city  in  the  world  is  named  after  the  greatest 
apostle  of  the  crucified  Nazarene;  upon  its  top- 
most spire  gleams  the  Cross ;  and  the  world's  most 
daring  poet  of  revolt,  Shelley,  "Atheist  Shelley," 
as  people  called  him,  has  sung  God's  own  truth 
to  intellect  and  heart  in  his  famous  line; 

Blazoned,  as  on  heaven's  immortal  noon, 
The  Cross  leads  generations  on. 

Such  testimonies  and  such  facts  of  history  are 
entitled  to  respectful  consideration  at  your  hands. 
I  speak  as  unto  wise  men.  Judge  ye  what  I  say. 
You  cannot  ignore  the  Atlantic.  There  is  noth- 
ing to  laugh  at  in  Mont  Blanc  or  the  Matterhorn. 
The  Himalayas  and  the  Andes  are  not  ridiculous. 
Ahke,  the  rise  and  fall  of  nations,  and  the  sins, 
repentance,  tears,  and  victories  of  the  saints  of 
God,  are  facts  which  the  man  of  truly  scientific 
temper  will  know  he  has  to  take  into  account. 
This  is  not  to  say  that  you  must  surrender  your 
judgment  and  blind  the  eyes  of  your  mind  because 
other  men  and  other  ages  have  believed  in  God. 
Christian  thought  is  more  sweetly  reasonable  than 
to  suggest  such  a  thing.  But  it  is  to  claim  that 
men  and  ages  speak  as  having  a  certain  authority 


THE  FIRST  AND  THE  LAST  247 

which,  in  any  other  walk  of  life,  you  would  be 
ready  enough  to  admit. 

At  the  very  least,  they  speak  with  sufficient 
authority  to  impose  a  modest  self-restraint  upon 
us  when  we  exercise  our  indefeasible  right  of  criti- 
cism or  denial.  Mr.  Gladstone,  in  a  famous  sen- 
tence, once  expressed  his  belief  that  the  faith 
of  Christ  would  look  down  upon  the  floating  wreck 
of  many  a  boastful  modern  theory  which  has 
thought  to  usurp  its  place.  The  storms  which 
have  raged  round  it  while  it  has  stood  secure,  as 
founded  upon  a  rock,  justify  his  confidence.  And 
when  we  remember  that  we  are  none  of  us  in- 
fallible, not  even  the  youngest  of  us,  we  feel  that 
Cromwell's  exhortation  to  the  Scotch  divines  in 
the  seventeenth  century,  "  I  beseech  you,  by  the 
mercies  of  Christ,  think  it  possible  you  may  be 
mistaken,"  might  be  well  addressed  to  ambitious 
thinkers  of  the  twentieth.  There  are  still  those 
who  can  speak  as  having  authority. 

You  know  to  what  this  leads  up.  You  know  to 
Whom.  It  leads  to  that  One  who  spoke  as  never 
man  spoke,  as  one  having  authority,  not  as  the 
Scribes.  Robert  Browning  was  thinker  brave  and 
virile  and  independent  enough.  His  conclusion 
lacks  nothing  of  robustness : 

I  say,  the  acknowledgment  of  God  in  Christ, 
Accepted  by  thy  reason,  solves  for  thee 
All  questions  in  the  earth  and  out  of  it. 
And  has  so  far  advanced  thee  to  be  wise. 

If  you  doubt  the  tremendous  conclusion,  put  it 
to  the  test.     The  proof  of  Christianity  is  in  itself. 


248  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

If  a  man  wants  to  know  whether  Christianity 
is  true,  let  him  try  it. 

What  is  it  in  Christ  which  appeals  to  us,  as  we 
study  His  life?  What  is  this  authority  which  we 
find  He  has? 

Negatively,  I  note  in  Him  the  entire  absence 
of  any  sense  of  sin.  I  am  not  asserting  that  we 
know  all  His  Hfe  and  know  that  He  was  without 
fault.  I  leave  you  the  loophole  of  our  ignorance 
of  His  hfe  from  twelve  years  of  age  to  thirty. 
I  am  only  calling  your  attention  to  the  patent 
fact  that  in  no  act  of  His,  in  no  single  word  or 
sigh,  do  we  find  the  remotest  suggestion  of  any 
trace  upon  His  own  soul  of  the  stain  of  guilt  or 
pang  of  remorse. 

Equally,  there  is  a  complete  absence  of  any- 
thing like  aspiration,  regret,  or  unsatisfied  desire. 
He  does  not  desire  to  be  other  than  He  is.  Paul's 
passionate  prayer,  "  Who  shall  deliver  me  from 
the  body  of  this  death?  "  is  not  further  removed 
from  His  spirit  than  Tennyson's 

Oh,  for  a  man  to  arise  in  me 

That  the  man  I  am  may  cease  to  be  ! 

He  is  ever  at  home  with  Himself,  His  soul,  and 
His  Father,  God. 

And  so  He  knows  no  fear.  With  immovable 
calm  He  pursues  His  course.  There  is  no  strain, 
no  visible  effort,  no  conflict.  He  is  a  child  of  the 
Galilean  sunshine.  And  even  when  He  seems  to 
feel  the  burden  of  the  world's  sin  upon  His  own 
soul,  and  His  great  heart  is  torn  with  anguish. 


THE  FIRST  AND  THE  LAST         249 

though  for  one  black,  bitter  moment  He  has  lost 
grip  on  God,  and  cried,  "  My  God,  my  God,  why 
hast  Thou  forsaken  me  ?  "  it  is  but  for  a  moment ; 
with  exquisite  resignation  He  sighs,  "  Father, 
into  Thy  hands  I  commend  My  spirit,"  and  His 
end  is  ineffable  peace. 

Consider  His  teaching.  His  positlveness  is 
amazing.  He  has  no  doubts.  He  never  stands 
in  pause  or  in  uncertainty.  His  words  throb 
with  vital  assurances.  To  this  hour  they  nerve  the 
world  with  incessant  affirmations.  Is  there  a  life 
other  than  this  with  protoplasm  for  its  basis  which 
a  grain  of  sand  or  drop  of  poison  may  destroy.? 
Yes:  Fear  not  Mm  that  can  kill  the  hody;  fear 
only  him  who  can  kill  the  soul.  Will  this  hidden 
life  live  on  when  the  visible  life  shall  be  no  more? 
Yes:  Because  I  live,  ye  shall  live  also.  Will  it  be 
a  real  life,  not  an  existence  of  ansemic  ghosts  in  a 
world  of  shadows,  but  a  vivid  and  palpitating 
deathlessness .f*  Yes:  In  my  Father^ s  house  are 
many  mansions.  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you. 
Who  shall  open  to  us  the  gates  of  this  distant 
heaven.''  I  am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life.  He 
that  liveth  and  helieveth  in  Me,  though  he  were 
dead,  yet  shall  he  live.  And  whoso  helieveth  in 
Me  shall  never  die.  Then  how  shall  we  learn  to 
cultivate  the  soul  within  us  and  escape  from  the 
touch  of  mortality .?  I  am  the  Way  and  the  Truth 
and  the  Life.  But  shall  we  be  left  to  our  own 
resources,  orphans  in  a  world  which  has  wandered 
from  God.P  /  will  not  leave  you  comfortless.  My 
Father  will  love  you.    And  We  will  come  unto  you. 


250  OLD  EVENTS  AND  MODERN  MEANINGS 

and  make  Our  abode  •with  you.  Then,  who  art 
Thou,  Thou  thorn-crowned,  regal  One,  who  dost 
promise  such  wondrous  things  to  mankind?  Art 
Thou  man,  myth,  or  mystery?  /  and  my  Father 
are  one!  It  is  marvellous — marvellous.  He  speaks 
as  one  having  authority,  but  in  the  words  of 
Sabatier,  it  is  "  the  authority  of  the  divine  work 
which  He  carries  on  in  the  hearts  of  men.  It  is 
the  authority  of  His  person,  if  you  will,  so  far  as 
His  person  is  the  incarnation  of  His  Gospel,  and 
as  both  are  clothed  with  the  ascendency  of  holi- 
ness and  the  conquering  charm  of  love.  He  pro- 
poses to  men  the  divine  verities  which  were  revealed 
to  Him  in  His  consciousness,  and  by  proposing 
He  imposes  them,  or  rather,  they  impose  them- 
selves by  their  own  virtue.  By  an  all-powerful 
moral  contagion  He  communicates  to  others  the 
divine  life  which  is  in  Himself.  .  .  .  His  author- 
ity over  the  conscience  is  of  the  same  nature  as 
that  of  God — inward,  moral — and,  by  that  very 
fact,  sovereign.  It  is  the  authority  not  of  the 
letter  which  oppresses  and  kills,  but  of  the  spirit 
which  makes  alive." 

To  the  acceptance  of  this  authority  I  invite 
you.  It  makes  no  demand  of  Reason  which  Rea- 
son cannot  reasonably  concede.  It  issues  no  com- 
mands which  do  not  approve  themselves  in  the 
normal,  unsophisticated  conscience.  It  formu- 
lates no  philosophy  which  is  not  broad-based  in 
human  experience;  and  it  holds  out  no  promises 
which,  on  earth  at  least,  are  not  a  million  times 
fulfilled.      For   Christ  will  be  no   man's   debtor. 


THE  FIRST  AND  THE  LAST         251 

Good  measure,  pressed  down  and  running  over, 
He  pours  into  the  bosom  of  those  that  love  Him. 
He  is  better  than  His  word,  more  gracious  than 
all  His  promises.  His  love  looks  mighty,  and  is 
mightier  than  it  seems.  And  the  best  of  all  is 
that  a  knowledge  of  it  has  not  to  be  certified  to 
us  by  outward  authority.  The  ground  of  Reh- 
gion  is  the  ground  of  modern  Science.  It  is 
verifiable  by  experiment  here  and  now,  and  as 
often  as  we  try  it  we  find  it  true.  Oh,  taste  and 
see  how  gracious  the  Lord  is ! 


THE    END 


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